Then and now, a tale of two hunters.

[Dean Winchester]

It had probably only been a few hours driving but Dean was pretty sure he had no idea where the hell he was. The one bad thing about being in a desert was the lack of street signs and marker points, the lack of a proper road probably wasn't helping him much either. Dean silently wondered who he would have to talk to about fixing this. The toll it was taking on his car was getting more and more apparent with every mile he drove. The once shiny coat was dull and covered in sand, and there were scratches everywhere. The sun beating down on it like an unforgiving ass wasn't improving things either. He was going to have to find a garage at some point, if not build one himself. The random idea of building his own garage made Dean smile the first genuine smile he had since arriving here.

He was going to cut out his own piece of this land, he was going to make it his. There would be beer, burgers, and a hell of a lot more beer! Then all you do is add in a garage for him to tinker with his car and all was set. Heaven on the Earth, or the dunes. Though the thought of him finding his own heaven made him laugh. A demon in paradise, huh? Sure, that was totally going to happen.

First things first though, Dean had to take care of this damn Reaper. She had gotten the upper hand on him and he had barely survived that little encounter. It took summoning up all his demonic being and manifesting itself in some strange new power to get his ass out of that particular frying pan. That had stunned him more then the fact that there was a Reaper here. Everything he knew about Demons from his hunting days told him they really should not be able to do what he did. Apparently all the old rules where out the window, he would have to learn it all again as he went.

Dean shook his head in a vain attempt to clear all the random crap out of it, he had a mission. He needed to hunt this bitch down and kill her. All he knew was that she had left town, so he had as well.

How is that working out for you, Squirrel? The thought had entered his head uninvited and Dean could have sworn it was Crowley's voice he had heard. Here you are around, driving around aimlessly? And for what, petty Revenge? Then you end up getting lost on top of it! I thought you would have been better then that now! Once a Winchester, always a Winchester I guess. No helping some folks.

God, even imaginary Crowley was an ass.

Dean was about to admit that maybe the voice in his head was right, which normally would have sounded strange even for him, but then he caught sight of something that brightened his spirits a bit. There was smoke rising off in the distance, not much though so it might be a cooking fire. If this was the case then that meant people. It was the best chance he had of picking the reapers trail he had at the moment, the only alternative being to continue driving aimlessly. Though looking at his fuel gauge he wasn't sure how well that would work. There didn't seem to be a Seven Eleven anywhere in sight for him to gas up at. That settled matters for him and he headed off in the direction of the smoke.

After a few minutes of driving Dean got close enough to see that there was indeed a small cooking fire nestled under an out crop of rocks, something like you would see in the Lion King. There were two people huddled near it and one further away in a look out position as far as he could tell. The lookout was armed with a rifle but he couldn't make out what the other two by the fire had, odds are they had weapons as well. With one hand visibly on the top of the steering wheel and the other hanging out the opened driver side window he slowed down and headed towards the look out. The last thing he needed was to spook them and have his car soak up a bunch of bullets.

As he pulled up he noticed that the lookout was not only female but a brunette as well. Dean thought that maybe for once things were looking up for him until her voice cut his train of thought short.

”Keep moving.” was all she said to Dean, barely even glancing at him. He hadn't even gotten the chance to flirt first before being rejected. Well, so much for that. The direct route it was.

'That's the plan, as soon as you answer a few simple questions.” Dean looked her straight in the eye, as serious as he could be. “I'm looking for someone, she's dangerous and wouldn't bat an eye at ending you and your friends here. All you have to do is...” Sadly he did not get to finish his sentence before the barrel of the look outs rifle was pointed in his face.

”Look Sweetheart, I don't care. We see tons of people come through here. Some of them leave, some don't. You're cute so I will let you go, don't make me change my mind!” Did she just call him Sweetheart? Really?! Cute comment aside Dean just glared at her before putting the Impala into reverse and backing up and then turning it around to head back the way he had just came. As he did so he could have sworn he heard her speak again. Something along the lines of 'That's what I thought', or some bullshit like that.

Dean drove off in a hurry, but not for the reasons that the woman had thought. As soon as he judged he was far enough away to pick up enough speed he spun the Impala around quickly, kicking up a huge cloud of sand as he did, and then sped right at the lookout. Dean was guessing he had caught her off guard as she barely had time to raise her rifle before he heard the sound of her impacting against the front of his car, smashing into the windshield and then rolling over the roof. That sound was music to his ears. Slamming on the brakes he cut the ignition and then got out of the car, eyes all black and first blade in hand.

He marched over to the broken body that lay beside his car and leaned down next to her. her blood shot eyes looking up at him as she struggled to breath, though it looked like she was trying to say something. Dean spoke instead.

“Sorry Sweetheart, that was not the answer I was looking for.” Dean jammed the first blade right into her throat and laughed as his victims eyes went wide, then for extra effect his twisted the blade as laughed louder and the blood sprayed everywhere. He pulled the knife out and watched as the blood bubbled from her throat as she made gurgled sounds while trying to speak. He was about to say something highly inappropriate but the sound of gun fire and the headlight nearest to him exploding cut that short.

Standing up he saw the other two that had been beside the fire, one armed with another rifle and the other with a rather large knife. The two of them seemed taken aback by the site of Dean. It was either all the blood, the donkey jaw bone knife, or possible his black eyes. Seeing the one with the knife make the sign of the cross Dean was guessing it was potentially all three.

“Two against one? This hardly seems fair for you.” Dean had started to move around the car as he spoke but stopped as he caught something out of the corner of his eye. There was something moving around the rocks. Slowly that one thing turned into two, then three, and then more and more. People where coming out of the shadows, all of them armed with something. Very few had fire arms though as most seemed to have either blades or blunt instruments, though by very few it seemed like there were only two with actual guns. The rifle in the hands of the dude by the fire and a rather old looking pistol.
In the end Dean counted about seven in total including the ones by the fire.

Dean dove behind the Impala as both of the folks with guns fired, some shot hit the side of his car, the other his arm. If he hadn't moved when he had that one would have hit him in the chest.

”Well shit.”

[Thaal Sinestro]

The red-skinned man strode through the street, his wary hazel eyes darting between the various vagrants and workers of the town. Their shirts were dirtied and stained with sweat; their belongings were meager and time-worn. They struggled. They hurt. They suffered under the weight of their own freedom.

The tyranny of choice is one that so many civilizations strain under. The oppression of freedom, it forces people to each other’s throats, each choking the life out of another. Money, fame, position, they were all thin veils over the desire of every free man: power. It was all around him, the outlaws and the sex workers, the struggling police and the few honest men that toiled; they all suffered under the chains of their ignorance.

Sinestro wanted so badly to guide them, to give them purpose and joy. Structure. Order. Law.

The large, single-humped camel grunted loudly and at length as its rider approached. He pat the animal’s long neck and checked the creature’s barding. “Hush now,” he said softly, “Drink some water. We’ll be back out into the sand soon I think.”

His mount was tied in front of the Sheriff’s office, a quaint structure even amid the other worn wooden structures of the city. The dry rot had sunk deep into the walls and roof of the building, even into the door. Sinestro knocked firmly, a few flecks tumbling from the frame. “Come on in,” Roland’s distinctive voice called from within, once again falling back on his false accent of the locals. Twisting the rusty brass handle, the korugaran stepped in.

“Ah, it’s you,” the sheriff said with a hint of warmth. He stood from his chair and gestured at the seat in front of his desk, “Good work with those Primes before. I was worried you solved all your problems with a gun and a brand.”

Sinestro allowed himself a small smile, removing his hat and moving into the wooden chair he had been offered. “No, not all threats need to be subdued.” He let out a long breath, “In fact, I don’t know if I’d even call that group a true ‘threat.’” He gently placed his hat on the desk, “Myself and Ganondorf actually go back a little ways.”

Roland nodded, also taking his seat. “I ken it,” he said, allowing himself to return to his native tongue, “As I told ye before, I have had words with him. That one uses his voice sideways, tries to pull the wool over my eyes with his words and ways. He tries to tempt me, tempt these people, but at what cost I don’t know.”

“And that is the problem, isn’t it?” The ex-lantern leaned back in his seat, idly swiping dirt from his shirt, “What is the price of his assistance?”

“And what is the price of yours, sai?” the sheriff asked as if it was nothing.

Sinestro’s idle movement halted and his gaze flashed up to meet the lawman’s. “Only your trust in me to do what is right for this town.”

Squinting, Roland peered into the man, through him. Their eyes remained locked for a long, tense moment, a silent test of his words. Finally the stare was broken and with a soft but heavy voice he uttered, “That I can give you.”

Roland reached into the inside pocket of his duster and tossed down a golden star which slid across the table and halted in front of Sinestro. In bold letters, the word DEPUTY was etched into its front.

Retrieving the badge, Sinestro held it up to his face, a grin spreading wide as he admired its color and luster. With a self-satisfied smirk he polished its surface with his sleeve and pinned it to his chest, just over his heart. “I have always looked good in yellow,” he quipped.

“Stay true,” the sheriff said firmly, enforcing his words with a jabbing point of the finger.

“Of course,” Sinestro purred, a new glint in his eye, “I will bring these lands to order.”

Roland offered a thin smile and brought himself to his feet, “Ye will do your best, this I know.” He sauntered over to a wall that stood layered with aging manila-colored wanted posters, the scowling faces of a hundred men, women and monsters balefully staring back at him. Without searching, he plucked a single paper from the wall, and offered it out to the new deputy, “I want you to look into this for me, sai.”

Sinestro followed after him and accepted the poster, glancing it over. His face contorted in confusion and he looked up to his superior, “Not Sledge?”

“Nae, not yet,” he affirmed. “She was found within our own city, gifting char on folks not keen enough to know her for what she was.”

“Char?” Sinestro asked, looking over the image of a buxom, curly haired woman with friendly freckles and glittering eyes. She hardly seemed to have the figure of a murderer, but an intimidating stature can foil the camouflage of a wily killer. Perhaps her handsome features were not not fear-inducing, but thy were effective all the same.

Scoffing to himself, Roland shook his head, “I forget myself sometimes, friend.” He chuckled and smoothed his oily hair back, “Char means death.”

“Heh, I understand well enough. I often find myself thinking in the terms of my old world too,” Sinestro admitted, rolling up the poster and pushing it into his pocket. “What was their last known location?”

“To the north. She and another Prime quarreled in the tavern afore she cried off her stay. Mayhaps she runs to Carrefore, but if she does, she goes by a strange path.” Roland took his hat from the table and cleared his throat, the shade of his hat concealing his face. “Alright, now go on and get,” he said in the voice he used for the masses, “I have other business to get to and I got nothing else for you.”

“Very well, Sheriff,” Sinestro said with a half-smile, also adorning his headwear, “I’ll be back with the bounty soon.”

“Banish the bitch if she’s Prime,” he added just before the door slammed shut.

---

The sound of gunfire drew the deputy’s attention, the camel sprinting as fast as its knobby legs could go. It wasn’t too far off the trail that he had been following; the woman crept through the minds and words of the desert wanderers and told a story of her moving towards the canyon pass trail. Besides, maybe it was Sledge’s gang that haunted this territory.

The sands crested and he gazed out over a shallow valley between himself and the flat red-rock table that hosted a small battle. The stony outcroppings of a larger butte seemed to support a small group of fighters or scavengers of some kind. A black vehicle stood between the attackers and a single man, though a large red streak and a mangled corpse just behind it indicated that he had claimed the first kill of the encounter.

For a moment he considered the possibility of a diplomatic solution, but the erratic gunfire of the gang quickly dissolved those thoughts. Pulling his rifle from the long holster, he dismounted the camel and ensured it was well below the cover of the dune to avoid any stray bullets. He walked back up to the lip of the hill and pressed himself down in to the scorching sands below. With the stock of his weapon half-sunk, he slowly and carefully took his aim.

He could get back to the ones with knives and clubs after the immediate threat had been taken care of. The ones with the guns would be the first that had to fall.

[Dean Winchester]

Dean swore as the sound of gun fire continued to ring out in front of him. Hopefully they would run out of ammo soon or else he would be a sitting duck here. In between the infrequent shots he poked his head out to get a better grasp of the situation. The man with the rifle was still his position by the fire while the others had started to advance on him. He could almost hear Crowley's voice again, though this time it was just laughing. If Dean didn't do something soon he was going to be very dead, very quickly.

He thought about rushing in, potentially taking one of them as a human shield, but the rifle and hand gun would still pose a threat unless he got there quick enough. Normally a demon wouldn't have to worry about this stuff, they could laugh off most mortal wounds that did not come from a magic weapon or something holy. Here though? Everything was wrong and Dean was not enjoying it as much as he was before.

Deciding that a hostage might be the only way he could get out of this alive the Winchester got up and readied himself to dash in and grab the first person he could when he heard something he was not expecting. There was another shot but this one had not come from the group in front, but from behind. He was worried for a second that someone might have been all sneaky like and got around him to attack from behind, but a scream from the group in front of him was telling a different story. Peeking around the front of his car he saw the man that had once sported the rifle laying down, face first in the fire. Apparently who ever it was behind him was either a friend, fat chance of that, or had something against this particular group. No matter what his mysterious cohorts motives were this was something he could use.

While the folks in front of him scrambled to try and deal with the loss of their big gun Dean dug deep and used some of his demonic energy to move with a burst of speed to leave his cover and dash forward to grab the first person he could get his hands on. Sadly it was a rather unimportant looking fellow with a club that had been brave enough to get pretty close to Dean, though in this case the demon would have classified him more as stupid then brave.

Bringing the first blade up to the throat of his unwilling guest Dean made sure he was between him and the one with the pistol as he cleared his throat and then began to shout.

“EVERYONE. CHILL. THE FUCK. OUT!” He pressed his blade firmly against his hostages throat, just enough to draw a bit of blood, but not hard enough to kill him. “No one else needs to die! I mean, I wouldn't mind killing every last one of you sons of a bitches but I need some info. Give it to me and you might....”

His sentence was cut short by the sound of another shot from the dunes behind them and the sound of a man crying out and falling to the ground behind him. Who ever the hell was doing this just became his new best friend. Time for Dean to roll with this, time to lie like he has never lied before.

“As you can see I was not dumb enough to come alone, we are here on official business. So unless you want to die one by one you better settle down.” Dean had wished he had one of his fake badges here to flash around. Thankfully these folks didn't seem to be the brightest and it wasn't necessary. Some of them lowered their weapons but the one with the pistol kept it trained on Dean.

“Bullshit!” said the one with the pistol in a voice that made Dean take a second look. Holy shit, he thought, that was a woman?

“You killed Beth!” Ms. Pistol continued, “You ran her down like a dog!”

“Well she was kind of rude, and I didn't really like her,” Dean paused for a moment seeing that they were starting to scowl at him and decided to not continue that little train of thought, “Though that is completely beside the point. See how I am not killing your friend here? I call that progress!”

There was a bit of grumbling between the remaining survivours, but it wasn't looking like they were going to get anywhere soon unless he prodded them along in the right direction. This meant telling SOME of the truth and mixing it in with a hell of a lot of the exact opposite.

“Listen, I am after someone. I may be a monster but this chick makes me look like a fucking saint. Send a killer to catch a killer thing.” He eased his blade off his hostages throat and then slowly took it away, making sure to keep a hand on his shoulder and keep him between Dean and the rest. “She has been killing a lot of people. Good, bad, townsfolk, bandits. I was sent to hunt her down before she killed every last soul in her wake.”

There was another murmur through the crowd and it looked like they were going to finally lower their weapons completely when all of a sudden they jerked them up and pointed them to something off to the side of Dean.

“It would be wise of you to all lower your weapons.” said a voice unfamiliar to the Winchester brother. Looking off to the side he saw something right out of the comic pages. Dean could have sworn he recognized this purple skinned stranger, silly moustache and all. Though this man seemed to be wearing a gold star on his clothing which meant he was a cop. Great. Dean didn't really have much time to think about this as he had to try and control this situation.

“See, I told you I didn't come alone. Now here is what is going to happen. I am going to give you a description of her and you will tell me which way she was headed if you have. After that everyone parts as buddies and I won't hunt you all down after. Deal?” Dean looked around and waited for them all to nod before continuing. Gesturing a general height with the first blade he started his description.

“She's about this tall, blonde, really hot too. Calls her self Mary-Sue... Mary-something... Great kisser too.” Dean heard a snort of disgust and looked over at his purple skinned visitor and scowled at him. “Hey, don't judge me!”

............................................................................................................................

“... and that is all we know” finished Ms. Pistol. Apparently that dammed reaper had been through here and then headed off again. Dean has no idea where she was headed but maybe this new guy did. Since they had wrung out of them whatever information they could out of the group Dean kept to his word and let them all go. Now all he had to do was deal with the purple moustached freak in front of him, though that could wait. Dean took a stroll around his car and noted the damage, it would drive but it was going to be a bitch getting anywhere and night driving was not going to be a thing. That whole setting up his own garage was looking better and better.

Finally after taking a mental note of everything his car needed Dean walked up to the rifle toting law man and gave him the once over. Something about him was bugging Dean and slowly everything clicked into place.

“Four things. The first is your name. Concerto, Sinpatico... Sintro. For the life of me I just can't remember what the hell it's supposed to be.” Dean paused as if searching through his memory and then shrugged. “Second, aren't you supposed to be fictional? I swear you were in the comics my brother used to read when he was a kid.”

Dean was on a roll now, the other man barely had a moment to speak before he kept on going.

“Third, how was it fighting Ryan Reynolds? I heard he is a major douche in that flick. Finally why the hell aren't you all yellow and glowy?” Dean waved the first blade in Sinestros' general direction as he said this last bit.

[Thaal Sinestro]

The angry group of wasterlanders were still buzzing around in the background, seemingly still deciding if the fight would be worth it. The occasional hard stare from Sinestro and the cold, casual demeanor of the black-eyed psychopath seemed enough to keep the scavengers at bay, but he couldn’t be sure how long that would last before the situation required another show of force. The deputy kept his rifle at the ready, just in case another demonstration was needed.

“Sinestro,” the red-skinned alien sneered, “and I do not yet have the ability to bring my ring here.” He pushed the brim of his hat up with his thumb, carefully inspecting the man that stood across from him.

The man snapped his finger and wagged the barbaric knife in his counterpart’s direction, “Ah yeah, that’s right, Sinestro. Who the hell comes up with those names?” He laughed to himself, “Sinest-roooo.”

The blood-drenched man’s equally blood-drenched blade seemed to be made of bone and lashed to its handle with sinew. For its primitive construction, it somehow seemed to keep something of an edge. Every time Sinestro’s eyes fell upon the primitive dagger, he felt a creeping unease surge through him, as if the weapon itself was furious with his presence. If the seasoned lantern had to guess, he’d say magic. The presence of the arcane was ubiquitous on Earth, and between the man’s appearance and his mystical weapon it was a fairly safe bet that he was human.

“Though I’m not sure where you know me from,” The korugaran paced back and forth in front of the warrior, ensuring he kept a safe distance, “I have never been a ‘comic,’ neither do I recognize the name of ‘Reynolds. Though, I’ve had more than a few conflicts with the people of Earth, and I can’t say I’ve known every name of every combatant I’ve faced there.” His feet came to a stop and he cast a baleful stare at the man, “Why are you looking for the woman you mentioned?”

“I didn’t ask by fourth question,” Dean replied, strangling down the overwhelming lust for violence that the mark inspired within him, “Why’d you save my ass back there?”

“Firstly, as a deputy it’s my duty to put an end to conflict in my sector.” A sinister glimmer danced over his eyes as he regarded the stranger, “But, more importantly, I need information.” He raised his gun and aimed it at the Winchester’s heart, a grim determination washing over him. “So either answer my question or I’ll sadly be forced to ignore the first part.”

“Heh, straight to the point,” Dean said with a blood-spattered grin, “but I dunno if you wanna take that route with me.” He blinked and the entirety of his eyes went black, their sudden emptiness almost eliciting a jump.

“Don’t make this more complicated than it needs to be,” Sinestro growled, placing his finger on the trigger.

The conflict within the demon was visible, struggling to withhold the violence that compelled him and to listen to the quiet voice of reason in the back of his mind. He breathed in heavily, pushing down the geyser of rage that threatened to erupt at any moment, and exhaled. The hand that held the blade fell to his side and his eyes returned to normal. “Ok, yeah. Mary and I were gonna have a quick roll-around in the back of the bar, right when she decided it was time to reap my immortal soul. Now, I don’t really know what that even means in this place but she seems damned content to do it, and do it a lot.”

Nodding, Sinestro lowered his weapon and reached into his pocket, retrieving the wanted poster. He tossed it over to the hunter, who quickly unfolded it. “Is that who you’re looking for?”

“More like what,” Dean corrected, “but yeah, that’s her. A lot sweeter to look at in real life, though.”

“I’m sure,” the deputy scoffed. “You said she’s not a person, so what is she?”

“A Reaper,” Dean said, sauntering over to his car, attempting to rub out a deep scuff. “Back where I’m from, these things collect the souls of the dying, you know, making them dead. It’s just the natural order of things; but this one seems to have gone off the program. She’s been tricking people into going off alone with her and giving them the sickle.”

The deputy’s eyebrows wrinkled as he considered his quarry. “I’ve been sent to kill her, or ‘banish’ her, as Roland put it.”

He smirked and flapped the wanted paper around, “I figured.”

“And you know how to put it down?” Sinestro asked cautiously.

Chuckling, dean wadded up the poster and chucked it back to the deputy. “They don’t call us Hunters for no reason.”

“It seems like you could use some help navigating though, doesn’t it?” he tempted the stranger, gesturing to the bloody mass that was once the scavengers’ lookout. “It looks like we both need something the other has and we’re both headed after the same target. Might as well make it easy for ourselves, right?”

[Dean Winchester]

Dean thought about what the law man had said to him, team up? Would it even be possible? How long could they stand each others company until someone, probably Dean, tried to kill the other. On the other hand though he really hated Mary-Sue so getting some help to track her down so he could end the bitch was probably not a bad idea at all. At least now it seemed the stragglers of the group they just faced had started to depart so if they talked they could at least do it freely.

He didn't say anything at first but he did put the first blade away, and now that it was no longer in his hands he felt the rage drain away to a more manageable level. Next he went to the drivers side door and opened it and found the hood release and popped the hood on his car. Making his way to the front he lifted the hood up and took a look at the engine, at least she would still run. Finally Dean turned to Sinestro and spoke.

“You have any water?” was all the Winchester said. Sinestro raised an eyebrow at him before speaking.

“Yes, I do. You would be a complete idiot to travel in this endless desert without proper survival gear.” Dean watched as the purple man went to his camel and retrieved a canteen and handed it to Dean when he got back. Dean opened it up and took a small sip. Yep, it was water all right. What he did next though shocked the alien in front of him. Dean turned around and took off the cap on the radiator and emptied the rest of the water in. There, at least now his engine wouldn't fry!

”You... why did you do that? That was a waste! You ARE an idiot!” Dean just laughed off the words and grinned that cock sure grin of his. This wasn't the first time he had been called an idiot. So far he had out lived every single person that had said that to him. Sure most of the time it sounded more like idjit then idiot, but the point still stood.

“Hey, my baby has to drink too or else I'm riding shot gun on that ugly beast of yours.” Dean looked at the camel and shuddered, “That is something I would like to avoid.”

Dean tossed the canteen back to Sinestro and then slammed the hood of the car shut before turning around and leaning against the hood of his vehicle., arms crossed around his chest.

“Here is the deal, you help me track her down and I will end that no good reaper bitch. Forever.” Dean patted the first blade as he said this. “This thing here is one of only two things that could properly kill a reaper, at least in my world. It should still work here, even if this world is all wrong.”

Sinestro just stared at Dean hard, though Dean couldn't really tell if he was thinking about what Dean had said or just deciding if he should shoot the Winchester or not. Dean was honestly used to either reaction at this point. He just seemed to bring out that side in people, the shoot first and don't bother asking questions later side.

”Fine, but if you betray me, put in danger any citizen of my sector, or even look like you are going to attack me” the purple deputy patted his rifle and gave Dean a very meaningful glare, “It will be the last thing you do.”

”Riiiiigggghhhhhttttt. Good luck with that.” Dean stuck out his right hand and the law man shook it, notcing what Dean had intended him to see. The Mark of Cain, a beastly little symbol that looked like it had been burned into the Winchester's arm, though it was raised from the skin as well. The thing gave off the same feeling as the blade had, basically a feeling of pure rage and murderous intent. The handshake lasted only a few moments and when Dean's hand was released he went back to his leaning position on the car and crossed his arms.

“Before we go though it is time for Reaper 101, the abridged class.” Dean waited to make sure he had the mans attention before continuing. ”Where I came from there are monsters of all sorts but the two main ones vying for the most attention from the little folk are the Angels and the Demons. Reapers are the former, and I am now counted among the ranks of the later.”

”You are not human then?” Sinestro asked him and Dean shook his head.

”I was, once, but not anymore. The mark here and this blade I carry corrupted me from the inside out. It was one of those become evil to defeat a greater evil sort of things. I'm not your typical demon though, I'm not so keen on following Crowley around like the others.” Dean saw that Sinestro was confused about the name Crowley, “Crowley. Dude's the king of hell. At least until I get back.”

Sinestro thought about this, going over what he knew of Earth history and culture.

”Isn't your supposed devil called Lucifer?” Dean sighed at the question and shrugged.

”It was, keyword WAS.” Dean rubbed his forehead a bit, “Me and my brother kicked his ass to the curb and stopped judgement day long ago. Now, if we could hold all questions till after class? Good!”

Dean took a large breath, suppressing his instinct to punch this guy to make him shut up and listen.

“Reapers equal Angels, only two things can kill t hem. This blade here and an angel blade.” Dean brought up his hands and held them about a foot apart. “They are silver spikes about this big. They kill Angels or Demons, anything really up to a knight of hell. Then you need the big guns. Then you need me! Still, as I said this world seems wrong so maybe a bullet in her brain bucket will stop her but why take the chance?”

With that Dean got off the his car and went back to the drivers side and got in, sticking his head out the window.

“So, are we going to go or what?” He laughed as the purple law man sighed and pulled the brim of his hat low and turned towards his camel until Dean called back to him. “Hey, by the way... name's Dean. Dean Winchester.”

Before the other could speak Dean turned the ignition of the Impala and let the engine roar to life before revving it several times. As the deputy headed towards his camel he could have sworn he heard something he was going to assume was passed as music on Earth.

Stand up and be counted for what you are about to receive. We are the dealers, we'll give you everything you need. Hail hail to the good times, cos rock has got the right of way. We ain't no legends ain't no cause, we're just livin' for today!

For those about to rock, we salute you!

[Thaal Sinestro]

The sun-parched sands shifted lazily, the wind too lethargic to whip up more than a breeze. The creatures of the desert crept and crawled, keeping to she shadows of their hides, under the rocks and within the desiccated trees. The rare splotches of green cacti wavered as you looked through the heat-bent light, the haze of calidity twisting everything it touched.

Far in the distance, twin spires of dust rode into the sky. The blare of wandering guitar pierced the scorching silence even before the roar of the engine or the thundering of hooves.
The had driven for hours, following the trail of a woman who’s footprints had long-since been blown away. They only had the whispered rumors of the wandering denizens of the barrens to go on, traversing on the well-travelled paths that crisscrossed the dunes and mesas. The red-skinned deputy wasn’t as familiar with the Endless Dunes as he had made it seem, but his understanding of tracking and trailblazing made up for his ignorance of local geography.

Dean’s experience in hunting down his target regardless of the location was perhaps more of a help to the cause than Sinestro was willing to admit. It seemed as though the hunter had a sixth sense about his quarry, an intuition that drove him through luck and logic to the creature he so desperately wanted to introduce to his blade. The ex-lantern couldn’t be sure if it was magic or skill; in either case he made note of the man’s aptitude.

The man’s shoulder wound had sealed up mere minutes after he had been shot, and though the only weapon he carried was a blade, it seemed like he could use it. Seemingly giving up his humanity had only strengthened the human; wherever he was from, demons were strong.

For all of his previous posting and bluster, Sinestro knew which of them would likely win in a direct confrontation. Fear and the illusion of strength would be his only allies, as they had been for his entire stay in the Omniverse.

The car and camel blasted past the cacti, paradoxically keeping pace with each other as they left the splash of verdant life behind them. Dean leaned out his window, offered the deputy a smirk, and yelled over the wind, “Hey, shouldn’t you be getting hungry right about now? Been about six hours since we last stopped.”

The korugaran’s sun-beaten brow was flowing with sweat, his chin was covered in stubble, and thick bags hung under his eyes. Refusing to admit his own exhaustion, Sinestro shifted in his saddle and considered his heavily taxed mount. Patting the beast on the neck, he nodded to the demon, “I think the camel could use a rest.”

The smile grew to a grin and Dean laughed, “Sure.”

Slowing down, the two pulled from the hard-packed trail beside a twisted, dry tree. Its back was bent back and forth, its exposed roots a tangled rat’s nest of confused growth. The plant had struggled to stay alive as long as it had, but in the end the elements had been too much for it.

Dismounting, Sinestro quickly moved to the thin strand of shade the dead plant offered, pulling his panting camel behind him. He was thankful for the animal’s resilience almost as much as he was for its unnatural speed. Removing his hat, Sinestro fanned his face and claimed another canteen from the saddlebags, unscrewing it and dumping it over his head. He let out a long sigh as the water soaked into the thick fabric of his clothing, cooling his skin underneath.

“It’s a hot one, huh?” Dean said, wearing a sinister smile.

Squinting balefully, the deputy nodded. “It is. You don’t seem to notice much, though. Is that vehicle temperature controlled?”

“Yeah, she’s got A/C, but I think it’s more got to do with the whole ‘demon’ thing. This sand-box has got nothin’ on the flame of hell.” Leaning on the frame of the car, he nervously rubbed the scratches and dings in the paneling, one hand always wandering towards the blade before he caught it and pulled it back. “Still use the A/C though.”

“Mm, how fortunate for you,” the deputy laughed to himself, guzzling down the remainder of his water. Pushing the canteen back down into the saddlebag, he retrieved another and offered it up to Dean. “Are you thirsty? And I don’t mean your car.”

Dean shook his head, “Nah, I’m alright, unless that thing is filled with booze.”

Sinestro’s brows crinkled, “And I suppose as a demon you don’t have to drink either.” He took another small drink of his water as he rested in the shade.

“Not unless I want to,” he confirmed, holding his pale hand out in front of his face. “And it turns out I’m a strong enough demon that I can even put my body back together. Normally stuff like not eating, sleeping, and getting all shot up would break down this handsome, original, skin-suit I’m wearing. It wouldn’t kill me, or keep this flesh-bag from walking, talking and kicking ass, but it would start to look gross after a while.”

“Hm, interesting,” the deputy hummed, eyeballing his ally. “So is that not actually your body, it is just a host for you?”

“Heh, well, interesting thing,” Dean mused, kicking himself up straight from leaning, “this is my body. I was once a human but my soul got converted into a demon while I was still alive, so I was still inside my… self. It’s a pretty unique situation. Usually you gotta die and get sent to Hell, and have your soul tortured for a few thousand years before you get ‘promoted’ to being a demon, and by then your old body is dust in the wind.”

Sinestro looked amused, “My, that does sound unique. All this talk of souls and spirits, too! Your old reality seems very interesting. I honestly haven’t taken much time to learn about the other worlds that people are drawn from.”

“Yeah, well that’s coming from a guy that was literally drawn where I’m from.” Dean put his hands out and gesticulated as he spoke, “You’re a fictional character, man! You’re like, a super-villain or something in these comic books. You were in a really shitty movie with too much CGI. It’s really weird seeing you in the flesh, man.”

The ex-lantern crossed his arms and tilted his head down, obscuring himself with the brim of his hat. “The way you say that would imply that yours is the ‘truer’ reality of origin, as if mine was fake and yours was true.”

Dean shrugged, his expression almost tauntingly casual, “I saw my little brother flipping through issues of a paperback he bought at a dime store where some freak in a green unitard was shooting laser beams at you. Pardon me if I’m a bit skeptical of that situation panning out to be real.”

“I can’t say that I haven’t seen stranger creatures than you where I am from, but I would postulate that there are ‘plainer’ realities that would find your very existence as preposterous as my own.” He shrugged and pushed his hat up enough to see one hazel eye glaring from beneath it, “Maybe there’s a comic about you in out there.”

“I deserve a TV show,” he chuckled, “trust me.” Turning, he cracked the door and reached into the door pocket, pulling free a small package with bold, colorful lettering across its face. “At least ten seasons. Maybe eleven.” Tearing open the seal, he took a large bite of the crumbling, half-crushed and sugar-coated pastry.

The korugaran offered the man a small laugh, relaxing himself somewhat. “I can’t say I ever had much time to indulge in the finer points of Earth’s media, but I think I understand well enough.” He pointed to the pre-packaged meal the demon was devouring, “I suppose you don’t have to eat either? Why are you choosing to now, of all times?”

“Because it’s pie,” Dean retorted with a spray of crumbs and doubtless confidence. “I always get these things at gas stations. Sammy is always bugging me about the preservatives or whatever, but I guess I don’t gotta worry about that crap now. I mean, it’s not like I did before, but even more so now that I’m all demoned up.” He hungrily took another large bite, chunks of syrupy filling clinging to his cheek.

“And who is Sammy? Did they come through with you?” the deputy asked calmly.

Dean paused for a moment, suddenly catching up with his own words. He swallowed his current bite, and crumpled up the rest of the pie in its wrapper, tossing it aside. “Nobody,” he said moodily, his eyes drifting to the ground.

Sighing, Sinestro opened his mouth, but a glimmer on a far-off mesa caught his eye. Turning, he saw a narrow line of smoke trickling from the top of the flat-topped mountain. Quickly stuffing his canteen back into the saddlebag, he leapt onto the camel’s back. He pointed with a long, thin finger and shouted, “Let’s try to head them off before the get too far!”

Dean flung himself over the hood and threw open the door. The Impala’s engine bellowed and cast out a few coughs of exhaust as he revved the engine before the wheels spun wildly and the two were off once again. Sand slowly gusted over the half-buried wrapper, its bold, bright letters never to be seen again.

[Dean Winchester]

The two of them had been getting somewhere, that much was at least true, it was just taking forever. Reapers were normally tricky to find to begin with, but apparently they get trickier when you put them in another reality and take away some of their power. They had been out in the dunes for what seemed like ages to Dean, he was starting to get a bit twitchy now. No solid leads, a lot of hear say, and this overwhelming urge to see something or someone very much dead.

At least his current travel buddy wasn't too bad, miles up on Sammy right now. Didn't bug Dean about what he ate, was a bad ass super villain at one point, didn't complain about the music yet. All that was lacking was a couple of beers and Dean could almost call this a vacation. If things went well with this reaper hunt Dean might actually be able to maybe call this guy something close to a friend! Right now that would probably be a good thing, it seemed that friends and allies were in short supply here while a lot of things really wanted to see you dead.

The later part didn't bother him as much, he had been dead countless times and he always came back. Why should it be any different here? Well, other then the fact that everything else also seemed to be different here.

“Brain. Shut up.” He heard the sounds and then paused for a second. Great, now he was talking to himself again. ”I need a damn beer....”

Looking down at the dashboard Dean decided to pull over and turn off the Impala's engine, keeping the windows up and doors closed to keep in the cool air from the A/C. He hadn't been sitting there long before the passenger door opened and his current hunting partner was occupying the seat next to him.

”I see why you never leave your vehicle now, this is rather refreshing.” They sat there for a moment before Sinestro spoke again. ”If I can ask, why did you stop? We need to keep going before we lose our prey.”

”I know, but this little gauge here says it is time to rest” Dean pointed down to the dash board, and the temperature gauge. ”It's getting too close to red for my liking. That means engine fries, I go nowhere. Besides there's nothing wrong with just sitting here and enjoying the view. Me and Sammy used to all the time.”

That sat there in awkward silence for a bit before Sinestro spoke up.

”This Sammy you keep mentioning, they are important to you?” Dean just sighed and growled a little bit before speaking.

”You keep asking that, as if it will make me open up and share my feelings!” Dean gripped the steering wheel tight before shaking his head and speaking again. ”He's my ex hunting partner, and my brother. He's probably trying to either hunt me down or find me to cure me as we speak. As if I needed to be cured. I'm fine, better then fine! I feel fucking great.”

Dean could feel his mood starting to darken a bit so he started the engine and cranked the A/C again.

”Breaks over, let's get moving.” He sat there and waited for Sinestro to exit and return to his own ride before they started down the trail again.


........


They hadn't been travelling for too long before stopping again. Dean was sitting in the Impala, engine still again, waiting for his new partner in crime to come back. Apparently the guy had noticed something in the distance and had went to investigate.

Dean had started to zone out after a bit before a knock on the window brought him back to reality. It was Sinestro and it looked like he had something to say to the ex hunter. Dean rolled down the window and poked his head out.

”I'm all ears.” The deputy nodded at the words and pointed off in the direction he had come from.

”Just over those dunes, a small camp. Three occupants but only two seem to be moving about. Something about it feels wrong.”

”Well,” Dean paused and thought about this for a few seconds, “Seems like we might have our first solid clue that the bitch was here. Let's go.”

They got as close as they could before they left their rides behind, taking only what little equipment they needed. That meant Dean had his blade at his side and Sinestro had his rifle, though the later of the two was kept lowered. When they got close enough Dean saw that it was a man and a woman kneeling over a smaller body, a boy it seemed. Raising his hand in the air Dean waved at them to get their attention.

”Go away!” came a voice from the group, the man if Dean guessed right. ”We have lost enough already!”

Dean got a bit closer, holding both his hands up in the air as Sinestro followed close behind him.

”We ain't here to take. We are here to help.” The two figures looked down at the prone figure before them before casting doubtful looks at the pair.

”Our son is dead, can you bring him back? If not they just leave us alone!” the father said before going back to his mourning.

Shit, Dean thought to himself, Shes' gone and done it now. It wasn't Dean who reassured the two though, but the deputy.

”We can not raise the dead, but we can find the one who did this and make sure it never happens again.” Dean didn't know if it was his matter of fact way of talking or the shiny star on his chest but his partners' words seemed to calm the couple down a bit. Dean nodded his head towards the two before leaning in close to Sinestro.

”Take them to the side and talk to them,” The hunter then looked down at the body between the two, “I'll take a look at him.”

While the deputy brought the parents off to the side to interview them Dean went over to the body and knelt down. He searched for anything and everything to explain his death. No bite marks, claws, missing hearts, stabs, bullet holes, not a damn thing out of place or missing. For all he could tell the boy should have been healthy and happy, if not a little under weight. The fact that there was no signs of death made Dean think that this was her. A Reaper generally had to take all kinds of life, but this kid had barely gotten a chance to live. The demon in him wanted to brush it off but all the talk of his past had been bringing up unwanted memories and it was all starting to piss him off. He was basically growling at this point, hand gripping the hilt of the first blade tight. It didn't even let go when a voice finally broke through his thoughts.

”They say they hadn't left him alone long and when they got back he was already dead and a figure was walking off in that direction. ' Sinestro shook his head before going on. ”It was foolish for them to leave their child, and now they have paid the price for it. The question remains, was it her?”


”Yeah, it was her. No other explanation for it, the kid just dropped dead. Bitch must have taken his soul and left.” Dean was still growling as he spoke. “I should have killed her when I had the chance.”

”YOU COULD HAVE STOPPED HER? This... this... THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” The father of the child was just angry and needed someone to lash out at, but at this point in time Dean was the wrong person at the wrong time. As soon as Dean felt the man's fist hit his face all the pent up rage he had been holding in exploded out.

With an inhuman yell Dean had freed the first blade and sunk it deep into the shoulder of the grieving man and then ripped it out. Dean's new victim let out a cry of pain and terror and stumbled back before falling to the ground. Dean tried to leap forward at the man but he felt something holding him back. Dean struggled to break free and when he did he spun around to see his new assailant was indeed the same Deputy he was here to help. None of that mattered to Dean at the moment as he was out of his mind and everyone was a target to him. Thankfully for the couple Sinestro had seen this coming and as soon as Dean had spun around to face him he brought up the butt of his rifle and smacked the Winchester pretty hard in the face.

Dean stumbled back, blood trickling down his forehead as he yelled and rushed forward again, only to meet the same fate. This time though the Winchester was dropped to his knees and he felt the barrel of the rifle pressing against the top of his head.

”Go, now. RUN YOU FOOLS!” the ex-lantern yelled at the couple as the woman helped her husband to her feet and they left everything they had owned behind, running because their very lives depended on it. Dean was gripping the hilt of the first blade tight, his knuckles turning white from the effort. The mark itself was glowing a bright red, the black and red veins pulsing from it seemed almost alive themselves. ”As for you...”

Dean felt the barrel being removed from the top of his head but before he could do anything the butt of the weapon came down on his head hard and everything went black. When Dean came too he was sitting up leaning against the side of the Impala, Sinestro sitting across from him with his rifle at the ready.

”So that is the price you pay for your power, Rage. You had the look of a wild animal to you, I was very tempted to put you down.” Dean sat there for a bit before responding to what his companion had said.

”Yeah, I guess. Generally it is controllable as long as I kill something now and then, usually a douche or some evil S.O.B that has gotten in my way.” Dean rubbed his forehead and then looked down at his hand, apparently he was still bleeding so he hadn't been out long. “I guess I was just playing nice for too long, then seeing that child, then the father exploding at me and taking a swing. It was all too much.”


”Perhaps there is still some humanity left in this demon then?” Sinestro raised an eyebrow at Dean as he spoke. “Maybe you are not as much of a.... what is that Earth term? Jerk?”[/i]

”Bitch!” The word left Deans mouth almost as soon as he heard the deputy use the word jerk, it was basically instinct by now. Dean thought of a way to try and change the subject though before anything else was said. ”Did those two happened to mention where our friend was headed before I went all ballistic on them?”

”Yes,” the deputy nodded, “That way, towards Carrefore.”

[Thaal Sinestro]

Dean’s blade sunk into the woman’s chest again, the jagged edges of the jaw bone shredding more than cutting as shattered her ribs and punctured her already tattered lung. Tearing it free with a grinding, crackling slorp, the demon snarled, his black eyes wide with rage. He paused for a moment to consider his victim’s ragged attempts at gasping before hammering down two, three and four more stabs.

Dropping the body to ground the blood-soaked man looked over the encampment and admired his crimson warpath while he heaved heavy breaths. At least six were dead, though he had honestly lost count, the blackened night sky and their scattered remains made it hard to count. The symbol on his arm burned through the blood that covered it, glowing an angry red as Dean reeled in his manic spree of destruction.

“Now, what do you know about the woman?” Sinestro snapped, his face illuminated by the flicking light of a nearby camp fire. He was holding the man who hd been knocked to his knees by the collar and he growled, “I’m losing my patience and I’m sure my friend wouldn’t mind making another warm body cold.”

The man’s dirt-smeared face twisted and was made gruesome by the shadows that were etched into his wrinkles by the flame. “Ok, ok!” he shouted, “She paid us to go after you two, ok? It wasn’t too much, but she said we could pick up more if we finished the job.”

Jerking the man up off of his knees, Sinestro screamed, “Where did she tell you to meet her!?” spittle flying into the attempted hit-man’s face. His eyes finally gave way to the tears they had been holding back and the thug stammered a moment before Sinestro back-handed him to the ground. “I tried to warn you,” he snarled with a dismissive undertone.

Dean’s red hands grabbed the bandit’s jacket by the shoulders and began dragging him backwards. The man thrashed and kicked wildly, pleading and howling for mercy. The demon grinned as he hoisted the man over his head and slowly lowered him over the edge of a cliff. A quick glance down confirmed the drop; several hundred feet spanning below. The boiling pitch of Dean’s eyes stared into the bandit’s soul, and he could feel it shrinking in terror. “Where?” Dean gnarled, the sound of tearing fabric underscoring his cruel intention.

“She told us to meet her at Rick’s!” the bandit yammered, clinging on to Dean’s wrists, his legs kicking into the empty air.

Dean shook him forcefully and one of his boots slipped from his foot, tumbling into the plain below. “Who the hell is Rick?”

“Gat-damn, son! Calm down,” the bandit twanged in his heavy accent. “I’m tellin’ ya right now!”

Letting go with his right hand, Dean held him with the strength of his left before punching him squarely in the nose, splattering it all over his face. “WHO THE HELL IS RICK!?”

“Rick’s Café American!” the bandit spat with a spurt of blood. “It’s in Carrefore, you can’t miss it! She told us ta ask for ‘Miss M,’ but that’s all she told me, I swear it!”

The demon looked back to the sheriff who stood a few paces behind him, carefully watching the scene with crossed arms. The deputy nodded curtly and continued to watch. Dean smirked gently and cocked his head to the side, “Welp, it’s been nice getting’ to know ya, uh…” his brow quirked, “what’s your name again?”

“Curti-“ the man’s words transformed into a blood-curdling scream as Dean flung him into the ravine. He leaned over the edge of the cliff to watch the old bandit’s body break over the low-lying stones, though he was a bit disappointed that the moon didn’t offer him the light to see it in detail. Brushing his hands together, the demon smiled and turned back to Sinestro.

“It looks like we have our heading,” the deputy snipped and began to walk to their vehicles. He passed by the dilapidated tents and paused for a moment to look inside. “Isn’t it strange that she would hire people to come for us? Does she think that they could put us down after the beating you gave her?”

“Hm, maybe not,” Dean contemplated, wiping the First Blade back and forth on his jeans. “Maybe she’s just giving these jackasses some info that she hopes we’ll get.”

Nodding, Sinestro entered the tent and began to rustle around inside. “A fake lead to put us into a trap. Do you think that Reaper would do that?”

“Reapers are smarter than they have any right being, so I wouldn’t put it past her.” He removed his leather jacket and gave it a good shake, a slosh of blood splattering onto the ground. “But we know she’s in Carrefore, or else that’d be a really shitty trap.”

“Or perhaps she has more contacts than we think, and has left some of them behind for us,” Sinestro mused as he exited the tent, a crate full of rations in his hands.

Dean peeled off his sweaty and stained t shirt and tossed it to the side, revealing his horrifically scarred but immaculately chiseled torso. “Bitch is off the rails, I kinda doubt she’s making many friends.” He carefully rolled one of the bandits onto their chest and carefully pulled their shirt over their slit throat. Thankfully they were wearing black so the blood wouldn’t show too much. He pulled it over his head and tugged at it, checking for the fit. Next he plucked the hat off of the outlaw’s head and planted it on his head. “How’s this look?”

Sinestro arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Dean pinched the edge of the near-black cowboy hat and slid his finger over the edge as he pulled it down fashionably, “Does this hat look good on me?”

The alien rolled his eyes, “The picture of fashion, Dean.” He began to unpack his load into the camel’s depleted saddle bags, again pausing to suck down an entire container of water.

“What’s the use in going incognito if I don’t look like a badass?” the demon snarked. He scoured the mangle of bodies until he finally found a large duster and tossed it on, shuffling until the shoulders fell correctly. It was a little big, but he rolled the cuffs and checked the window of his car, nodding to himself. “I look alright,” he said flatly.

Sinestro glanced back and forth and motioned towards a person who’s face had been completely caved it. “I think that hat would look better with the jacket.”

“Hm,” Dean huffed, tossing his current headwear into the dirt, “I think you’re right.” He scooped it up and pushed it on, flicking the brim dramatically.

Sinestro shook his head and tugged on his dusty woolen poncho. “Are you finished?”

“Are you?” the demon jabbed back as flung open his car door, “’Cause if you’re done pillaging for scraps we’ve got an obvious trap to wander into.”

Tugging on the straps on his camel’s side, he gazed over the scene of carnage and ruination again. “I’m ready,” he said and hoisted himself onto his hump-backed mount.

[Dean Winchester]

Dean was feeling great, better then great! He felt indestructible right now! That was always one of the perks of giving in to his rage and feeding the mark, and now he was wondering why he had original fought it so long when he first got the damn thing! This little attack had given him exactly what he needed, other then the info and new duds of course. Now the two of them sat on the outskirts of Carrefore, planning their next move. Well at least Sinestro was, Dean wasn't really paying attention.

Peering into the window of the Impala he took one last look at his new disguise and saw something missing. Leaning down he picked up a handful of sand and rubbed it on his face and hands. This had two effects, the first being to clean off some of the blood that was still cleaning onto his skin. The second was to dirty himself up a bit seeing as most people who travelled these parts seemed to have never seen a shower before. If they were going to go sneaking around he might as well look the part.

”Yes, you are a master of disguise,” sneered the ex-lantern, ”but have you heard a single word I have been saying?”

”MMmmmmm, nope. Can't say I have! Listen, we just go in and announce who we are looking for and show them my blade here as proof I am dead and all is rosey. She comes out, stab stab stab, and then we get a beer.” Dean's explanation made perfect sense to him, even if it might have been lacking a few things. Things like details, back up plans in case shit hit the fan, that sort of thing. It might have been because he was starting to finally get close to his prey.

”Or we can banish her, that is always an option as well.” This wasn't the first time Sinestro had mentioned banishment as an option, ”The fact remains we still need to get close to her to do either. Your plan has a few holes in it I am trying to fill.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at that last part. Holes that needed to be filled, huh? This wayward thought caused him to snicker a bit which only got a sigh of frustration from his hunting partner. Dean took a deep breath in an attempt to stop his little giggle fit before speaking again.

”We leave your camel and your little shiny star somewhere safe, drive up in the Impala and park it outside without a damn care in the world. It is our trophy you see?” Dean scratched his chin a bit and then nodded as if he was hashing something out. ”Then we go into the bar, throw the blade down on the counter as if it meant nothing and ask for her. We drag her out to the dessert to confirm the body, murder she wrote, and all is well in this quaint patch of sand once more.”

”Or we banish her.” There it was again! Banish banish banish!

”Why do you keep saying that? Banish her to WHERE and HOW?”

”The Underverse, with a banishment circle.” The deputy must have noticed the confusion on Deans face because it explained it in simpler terms the hunter could understand. ”We would send her to Hell and throw away the key. She would be stuck there.”

Dean thought about this for a breif moment then shook his head.

'As fitting as sending an Angel to Hell would be this bitch needs to be very dead, and this has to happen very soon.”

”Just remember the empire has an outpost in this town, let's try to keep the murderous rage in check.” Sinestro looked at Dean to make sure the last part sunk in. ”Their numbers here are too large for us to handle at this time so we must play nice.”

”Yeah yeah. Just here to visit friends, not the droids they are looking for.” Dean waved his hand in the air as he spoke. ”Move along!” Sinestro stared at the hunter in disbelief.

”What are you doing?” Dean just growled at the question and stomped off to the Impala without answering. This was good stuff! Sammy would have laughed, maybe. Dean got into his car and started the engine and then headed off towards Carrefore, checking the rear view mirror to make sure Sinestro was still with him. Finally, he was so close to getting some payback!

Finally they came up to the settlement and Dean noticed there were indeed Stormtroopers handling the traffic going in and out. They waited maybe a few minutes before finally the two guards waved them up towards them.

”State your purpose.” Dean looked up and was all smiles and what not, doing his best to sound very happy to see these fine young men in armour.

”Just coming to visit, find a place to feed and water the beast back there.” Dean nodded his head towards the Deputy and his camel. ”Oh, and the camel might be hungry too.” This got a glare from Sinestro and a chuckle from the second Stormtrooper that was silence with a glare from his comrade. At least Dean thought it was a glare, hard to tell with those damn helmets.

”How long do you plan on being in town? the first trooper went on with his list, it was almost as if he had to memorize a page and fill in all the boxes. Dean would have hated to have his job.

”Just long enough to feed the camel, restock supplies, and maybe grab a beer or two.” The trooper studied his face for a bit and then leaned down towards the window.

”We don't want trouble here, there have been a lot of rumours coming out of the waste. Keep on your best behaviour and make sure the only time I see you after this is as you are leaving.”

”Of course! Wouldn't dream of being a hassle!” Dean put his car into gear as the trooper waved them in.

”Move along!” Dean had to keep his composure as they drove into the city but he was screaming on the inside. HOLY SHIT THEY ACTUALLY SAY IT! HA! THIS IS FUCKING GREAT!

After finding a place to stable the camel and get it taken care of Sinestro joined Dean in the Impala as the made their way to Ricks Cafe American. Dean was going to ask what it looked like but the big flashy neon sign that announced its presence to them silence any question he was about to ask. Dean pulled up and parked the carp haphazardly and got out slamming the door hard. Spitting on the ground he gave it a good kick. Part of him was screaming on the inside while another part said it was just a car, had to make it look like he didn't care about it.

“Nice car! Want to sell it to me?” a voice called out from off to the side. Dean just shrugged and tried to mask his voice, making it sound more like a gritty superhero reboot impression.

”Maybe. We'll talk when I get back.” Hearing his horrid attempt to mask his voice Sinestro leaned close to Dean.

”I will do all the talking from here on.” To which Dean muttered under his breath, something about being the night and bats, as he followed Sinestro inside. As Dean took a step through the door it all came to life. The big band off to the side, the piano, it was all there as if it had been ripped from the screen. It was all silent right now though, probably to set up for the next act.

One thing was bothering Dean though. He leaned in close to his new partner and whispered.

”Aren't there supposed to be nazis here?” Sinestro just looked at Dean and then shook his head making his way in towards the bar. Dean was about to follow when a couple of Stormtroopers walked by. ”Rrriiigggghhhhtttt, close enough.”

He followed Sinestro to the bar and leaned against it, trying to look bored with everything as the incognito law man spoke to the tender.

“We are looking for Miss M.” The bartender looked them over and gave a snort.

“What are you looking for her for?”

”A job we pulled for her.” Sinestro nodded towards Dean as he said this and as if on cue the Winchester let the first blade slide free and he slapped it down on the bar before going back to looking bored. The bartender looked at the two and then shrugged.

“Not sure what sort of job that,” he paused for a bit and looked at the first blade, “thing would have involved but she should be out soon enough.”

[Gildarts]

Trumpets blared and saxophones sang into a timely jazzy tune that hung off of the zestfully swinging jamboree. It was a small show, with hardly a stage high enough to hold the band above the rest of the room, but someone had hung some lush velvet curtains and now a bright light fell on them, awaiting the reveal of a face to match the rich voice that began to sing with an enchanting allure as it beckoned the audience into a misty curiosity. Eyes fell on the forbidden wrinkles of velvet, everyone expecting the arrival of just who was behind the curtains.

Slowly, the folds were gently tugged away and the parting of fabric from the center stage flashed with a feminine figure. The spotlight introduced the woman as it glittered against a lustrous red dress, was a the siren who more than enjoyed the center stage.

Heels, a shade darker than her scarlet gown, but the eyes of every man in the room followed the golden skin up past her revealed knee and skimmed over the tight wrapping of fabric as it hugged against her lithe hips. Strapless shoulders reflected a silky sheen of sleek skin, the slow movements of her arms as they cradled the era-bound microphone somehow suited the girl whose curls had been bound in a more flattering and classy hairstyle, matching the times. Lashes, long, black and shimmering with every blink, aligned themselves with the slow and humbled tempo of the song.

Blue steel met Dean’s eyes from across the crowded room, however, instead of becoming tense, the features of her face seemed to soften, and Mary Lou seemed to be able to finish her captivating tune for the rest of the bar, conducting their attention before hanging off of a single note that spiraled into a tangle of piano keys.

“As time.. goes.. by...”

The southern belle’s eyes settled on Dean as the last notes wavered on her freshly rouged lips. A lovely glance over his shoulder affirmed to her that he had not come alone. The sunburned man seemed to have worn an agitated expression in, but it was nothing that a song of an angel couldn’t cure, as he seemed only slightly more relieved than when he entered.

Dean’s hand clenched the dagger.

“Now now.. Let’s not be hasty..” Her deep voice beckoned them to sit as tones of tapping piano keys lingered in the air. A lasting look hung on the mustached-man's expression, who had, by this time, recognized her from the folded picture he felt for in his pocket, yet Sinestro did not bother to unravel it from its safe place to match the stunning light of her face.

Mary Lou was a beacon of lavish taste, her presence even, somehow eloquent. Once, perhaps, untainted by desires that would resort her to killing innocent people, she would have been beautiful in those tasteless pearls.

“So, you like my little Christmas present boys?” She asked as though reading his mind, while a bit of an accent rolled from her charmed lips as she referred to the bandits that had lead the unlikely duo here, “Wrapped with a pretty little bow, just for you to untie, Dean.” A winkless eye held on him, but the lights in the room did more than enough to shimmer on her gaze.

The first-blade held in his hand as he readied it, against her wish. Her chin raised out of distaste, “What...? Not even a hello? Honestly. You, a once-half-assed-human, freshly converted demon, truly think you are a match for an angel?... Or should I say... Reaper?” The taste of the forlorn word kissed their ears with the temptation of death.

“You were right about one thing, remember last time.. When you called me a Rogue? Well, I’ll tell you a secret, as I am confident in your imminent demise this time. Very confident. Do you know how many souls I have collected while you were.. Running around trying to catch me? While you were tracking down a few of my herrings? Let me tell you, Dean, I am a rogue. That should scare you, as well as any, as I have all the power of heaven, Death and ... Well, I think you have put it together that I was hired, and what with Death not around.. I gladly took the job, and for a fraction of the souls I collected, I made a deal.”

Dean’s eyes steadied on the bitch. Suddenly seething at the news. Angels were some of the strongest of all the creatures he had come across. Due do the reaper’s posture, the power in her stride, she wasn’t lying. She didn't flinch at the blade in his hand, despite how close he was to stabbing her in the heart with it. Mary Lou had in such little time, become stronger, faster, and by the look of her thirsting eyes... More hungry.

An angel had bet her soul, well, that was if the bitch had a soul here in this world. Somehow she had gotten around that fact, Demons always had their loopholes. Of this, Dean could be sure.


“You’re gonna die here, bitch.”

A glitter of excitement flashed with the same fragments of shimmering glitter as her dress. “Come now Dean, let’s not make this... Unprofessional.” She raised an empty palm, as though within it, she grasped all the power she would ever need. Her voice asked, after hinting at the tones of the song she had sung as he entered the speakeasy, “It’s still the same old story.. A case of do or die.. As time goes by...”




“Shall we?”

[Thaal Sinestro]

Dean’s hand grabbed the first blade, the sinew of the handle feeling like home. He squinted at the comely woman, eying her like a slab of meat, ready to be butchered. He didn’t care that she had traded her bar rags for microphones, and he didn’t care that she’d dolled herself up so well. The blade crept from the sheath, a toothy grin spreading on his face.

Sinestro’s hand grabbed his arm, and he sternly said, “No. Not here.” He gestured with his head to the troopers standing at the other end of the bar who were already a bit too interested in the trio. Snarling, Dean’s fingers unwrapped from the First Blade, and he jerked his jacket back around him haughtily.

“Now now, I hear that those boys in white don’t like a ruckus,” the Reaper twanged with a thick accent. She perked her eyebrows and tapped the bar with two fingers, “Now, wouldn’t you like to buy a lady a drink?” A cold stare from the hunters led her to shrug, open up her coin purse and throw down a few small glistening orbs of omnilium. When the barkeep came, Mary Lou spoke so softly it was almost a whisper, “French Seventy-Five, sweet thing.” She eyed the man hungrily as he walked away to make the drink.

“Looking for a midnight snack, you crazy bitch?” Dean snapped, his agitation thinly veiled.

The man set the tall flute of fizzing beverage in front of her as she rolled her eyes. She lifted the glass and brought it to her lips, taking a small sip. She relished in the bubbling drink before swirling it in her hand and offering a predatory look at the boys. “So, what did you have planned, then? Did you just wanna have a little chat over a drink, Deany?”

Sinestro smiled and pat Dean on the back. “I’ll be right back, entertain our guest for a moment.” The hunter gave the korugaran a look of anger and confusion, but said nothing as Thaal stood and walked away.

Sighing, Dean stared angrily the gloating angel, tapped the bar and grunted, “Beer.”

The deputy made his way across the bar, looking through the scores of people that inhabited it. Despite its location in the barrens of sand, the patrons of the café seemed mostly to be of a higher class. Finery, jewelry, and other demonstrations of wealth and power were common, though a few of the more common people still seemed welcome. His eyes fell upon the target of his search and he quickly made his way to them, checking that both Mary Lou and Dean were where they were supposed to be.

Motioning to the stormtrooper, Sinestro tried to call their attention. “Excuse me sir, I have something to report.”

The soldier nodded and stepped in front of the deputy and asked through his speaker, “What seems to be the trouble, citizen?”

Discretely pointing at the singer, Sinestro whispered, “There is currently a warrant for arrest for that woman, issued by Roland from the Town With No Name.” He removed the wanted poster from his pocket and unfolded it under the bar, allowing the trooper to see the validity of his claim.

“Sorry, we don’t enforce their warrants,” the armored man said flatly.

Sinestro folded his poster up and stowed it. “Well she’s clearly still a dangerous person. She’s a threat to every person she comes into contact with.”

A gruff laugh crackled out from behind the helmet. “All she’s done so far is sing songs and collect tips. We aren’t going to go after her until there’s a reason other than that outcast’s bounties.”

“You don’t know what kinds of powers that woman controls,” the deputy urged, gesturing with his hands.

Again, the trooper shook his head. “There are plenty of people that come through these parts that can do crazy things. We couldn’t keep them out even if we tried.” Before Sinestro could continue, he held up a black-gloved hand, “Thank you for the heads-up, citizen. We’ll keep an eye on her.”

The deputy contained his frustration and nodded. “Of course. Thank you,” he said as cordially as he could and turned around. He hands balled and unfurled as he made his way back to his seat next to Dean, nervously shaking his head to his hunting partner.

[Dean Winchester]

Dean saw everything go to hell in a matter of seconds. Of course she knew they were here, why wouldn't she? It's not like they had disguised themselves and been sly as shit! Fucking angels. Dean had always been annoyed with them, but they usually proved to have SOME use. This one though? He just fucking hated her. The sound of a full glass placed in front of him brought Dean back to reality and away from those dark thoughts, even if just for a moment.

Picking up the beer he put the glass to his lips and then tipped it back. In a matter of seconds the contents of it were gone without even a second thought. It was cold, tasted halfway decent too as far as Dean could tell. Better then that piss water back in the other bar, though Dean would never say this to Jimmy. He liked Jim and didn't want to have to kill him over something like that. He would, but didn't want to.

“Another” he said as he slammed the empty glass back on the bar. It had gotten him a few looks but nothing he wasn't used to.

”My my Deany, hittin' a bit hard tonight. Do you really think y'all should be doing that?” The Reaper smiled at him as she said this, bringing her own drink to her lips and taking a small sip from it. “I mean, I don't want our fun to be over too soon. Do you?”

”Listen here you bitch!” Dean had started to raise his voice but then caught himself and lowered it to a more conversational tone. ”We know where you are now, and soon? We. Will. Kill. You.”

As he was saying this another beer was placed in front of him so he picked it up and offered it towards the bitch in a toast. Mary-Lou was giving him the death stare before she finally tapped her glass against his, the clinking sound it made rang through the entire room.

”We'll see, Sugar. Maybe you will, or maybe you might just die tonight. Won't it be fun to find out?” She was studying Dean, waiting to see what his reaction was. Dean just picked up his glass and took a large gulp from it before setting it down. Man, that really was refreshing! He had to come back here when their pest problem had been taken care of.

”Trust me, we are going to make it too hot here for you, hotter then the flames of hell sweet heart.” he just grinned at her, showing her his teeth like an animal circling in for the kill. ”This time, you won't have a damn place to run to though. Trust me on that.”

He stood up to face her and this time he spoke very loud on purpose.

”I mean I would hate to let a wanted murderer like you get away.” Dean saw the scowl on her face again and this time acted shocked. ”OH! You're saying you aren't a killer? Strange, the warrant said otherwise! Man, if I was any sort of law enforcement I sure would keep an eye on YOU!”

Turning around he did something rather Un-Dean like, that is to say he left with a beer still mostly full. Something she said bothered him a bit, did she say she made a deal? Were their other demons here? Shit. If that was the case Dean needed to watch himself. What if they didn't know he was one of them? They would love to off a Winchester and he planned on staying alive as long as he could.

As he exited the bar Dean sighed and shook his head. It stunk out here but it was better then grinning and bearing the shit going on in there. He heard a cough and turned around to see Sinestro behind him.

”You caused a commotion in there. People are swarming her.” Dean just grinned at this and nodded towards the Impala. Walking over to it he got in and shut the door, waiting for Sinestro to get in before starting the engine and heading off.

”Should keep her off our tail while we find a place for the time being.” he looked over at his partner and shrugged. ”Figured she couldn't follow us if people were keeping her busy. You know how small town bars are with gossip after all.”

Dean just drove in silence, not even turning on any music, till they got to were Sinestros' smelly beast was kept. Dean turned off the engine and then sat there in the quiet.

”What are we going to do now? the deputy asked him. Dean just snarled at this while gripping the steering wheel tight, the entire thing was starting to piss him right the fuck off.

”No fucking clue.” Dean closed his eyes to try and relax but all he saw was that bitch smiling at him. He let out a yell and slammed his hands down on the dashboard. ”I fucking hate this! That bitch is killing people and I can't kill her back. These damn Troopers and the stupid laws. You should have just let me shank that bitch right there!”

”It was too risky, as you said those 'damn troopers' would have killed us there on the spot, or banished us. As for this Mary-Lou, couldn't we simply trap her somewhere and kill her then. Someplace with no one to witness it?” Dean just shook his head at this, though something about it was bothering him.

”Regular angels are hard to trap, Reapers are even worse unless...” Dean let his sentence trail off before he remembered something. That dick Alastair had trapped two reapers before! Dean and Sam even used something similar on a pair of hand cuffs to keep Tessa in check! ”YES! That's it! I could fucking kiss you man!”

”Please don't.” Dean got out of the Impala and Sinestro followed. ”What does this mean though, do you know how to imprison her?”

”Hell yeah I do!” Dean went over and started looking through Sinestros supplies to see what he had. Sadly they didn't have what they needed. ”Though we are going to have to do a bit of shopping first. Then we find a place, set the trap, and then we make it too hot for her in this city so she has no choice but to come after us.”

Dean went on to explain his plan in hushed tones to make sure no one would hear. It involved a lot of mixing stuff together, painting everything with symbols of sorts, and a hell of a lot of luck. As it stood this seemed to be the best plan they had at the moment. They were basically up shit creek and Dean didn't see any paddles around anywhere.

[Gildarts]

"And soon? We will kill you."

"It's a race then." She concluded as the bubbles danced on her lips and she took a single sip from her crystal rimmed glass. "And we're both veterans of the game."

Before Thaal could return, Mary Lou made an observational comment about the mysterious deputy, "But what do you know about him?"

Everything began with a little doubt.

Not that it would be immediate, or persuading, from her own person, but mind games were part of the rules, when it came to Reapers.

...

A raise of her eyebrows. Two could play at that game.

And by that game she meant the one where Dean and the other one had seemed to alert the other guests of Rick's Café Americain, "As a Reaper, it's in the job description to keep track of every person killed, no matter the world I'm on. Though I can't always bring them to heaven, as you can imagine, that's harder for me to access here. Anyway darlin' I think it's hypocritical for YOU to call ME a murderer. Just because you don't believe in my cause, doesn't make my deaths any cheaper than those that you have caused. The fact of the matter is, death follows you everywhere."

The angel carefully selected her words. "For all you know, you could be dead right now. Fallen under my hallucination, seeing exactly what I want you to see. You even picked up a friend along the way." More doubt was gestured over to Sinestro. "But then, I suppose, you would go straight back to..." She let the hint of the word trickle into his mind, "Well, you know."

A triumphant smirk, as time continued to bend around her words, so that only Dean could hear them. From their perspective, around them were the slow, groggy sands of time as the people slowly shuffled around the bar.

"Dean, sweetie, did you forget you are in the Endless Dunes? Here, in this world, this is my favorite verse because you can kill AND get away with it. Look around to everyone's belts." Her gaze swept the room as her arm extended outward, toward the atmosphere.

Dean didn't want to, but soon she forced his hand. "Holsters with loaded pistols, almost every one of the humans in this room is wearing one. Even the woman in the black dress in the far corner." She paused again. "Should I tell you, how many know me? Or just how many owe me. I've done most of them a favor, in... One way or another." She winked playfully. "Right now, the words you have spouted may have brought suspicion upon me. But, I really doubt it will have the effect you expected. Because now, they know exactly whose side you are on. Demon or not, Winchester. You're against me."

Dean had chugged his beer in the brief duration she had spoken and another had been delivered in the slowed gargle of time that had passed. His eyes were fierce as flint and suddenly flashed blacker than the infinite hole that was the hell which Dean himself had endured.


Mary Lou continued her soliloquy while Dean was warped and frozen still in his place in time. "Honestly, you're probably wondering why I don't kill you and your friend right now. The thing is, I could kill you right now, but that- killing you- would ruin the game. And that would be no fun, now would it? And then there is the question that looms over this place. This question is:"

"How do I kill an immortal? Better yet, how do I kill a Winchester?"

Dean looked at her, confirming his Prime status, while she let time flip as though it were an animation notebook, quickly the scene swarmed with people coming and going. Dean only realized her implied threat to his brother after Mary Lou vanished from sight the way all angels do- without a trace- and Dean was left hearing her whisper in his ears as he exited through the door.

"Till death do us part, sweetheart."

[Thaal Sinestro]

The two sat in the parked car, under the buzzing light of an electric streetlamp on a dirty corner near the “downtown” of Carrefore. Dean’s eyes flashed black as he squeezed the wheel hard enough to hear the creaking of the leather, jack locked and brow furrowed. Sinestro stared out the front window, his fingers steepled and his eyes narrowed in focus. People passed by in small flocks, Stormtroopers occasionally looking in as they passed.

They sat in silence for minutes, though the felt like hours as they brooded over their problem. “We got two options,” Dean finally said, though he could barely part his lips to do so. “We got a larger trap that uses white sand, the ground bones of the wrongfully dead mixed in.”

“Well we have plenty of those lying around after her rampage,” Sinestro said, his brow quirking.

Dean ignored the comment and continued, “The other is just a bucket of white paint for the symbol, but you gotta use it in conjunction with a ritual.”

“What’s the ritual like?” The korugaran’s voice was soft, serene, tempered by the will that granted him so much patience.

Sighing heavily, the demon growled out, “We would need a crucifix, gold ore, hemlock, mace and a bit of blood to summon her. Before you ask, the circle don’t work unless we summon her.”

Blinking, the deputy shook his head, “Well, we can summon those items with omnilium, so it shouldn’t be too much of an issue.” He unfolded his fingers and looked at Dean, “That is, I think so. What exactly is a crucifix?”

Dean’s anger abated for a moment as he jolted back in shock, “You don’t know what a crucifix is?” The red alien’s blank expression answered him. “Oh, it’s like, well it’s like a cross but it’s got Jesus hanging on it.” The ex-lantern’s expression remained unchanged, but he offered a slow blink. “Aw, man, like, Jesus. Lord and savior? I guess they don’t have Christianity in comic books,” he grumbled. “It’s a cross with a dead guy hanging on it,” he finally snapped.

“Ah. How lovely your Earth religions are,” Sinestro said dryly, turning his gaze back to the windshield.

Dean scoffed, wrapping his right arm over the top of the seat as he turned to face his hunting partner. “Oh yeah, and what do you people believe in?” he asked, his anger diminishing, or at least redirected.

“I outlawed religion on Korugar,” the ex-lantern said dispassionately, “My people were better than bending at the knee to the pedantic ramblings of preachers or succumbing to the dated wisdom of fairy tales.”

“Heh, yeah, I never really bought all that God crap either,” the demon said, looking up in remembrance of his home reality, “Hell, even after I saw it all firsthand I still don’t buy into it.” He smirked and shook his head, “I’ve been to Hell and back, saw angels and became a demon. I’ve heard the literal word of god and met a few of his prophets… and none of that crap has given me even a lick of faith in the powers that be.”

Shaking his head, Sinestro smiled, “We come from very different worlds, indeed.”

Snapping out of his temporary reverie, Dean cleared his throat. He looked around the car and began to gather his meager belongings in the attempt to prepare for their mission. “Yeah, well, we’re here now. We got a Reaper to kill and a bunch of components to summon. I’ll cover the Earth stuff and you summon the paint, gold and the blood.”

The deputy held up his hand and shook his head at the hunter, “I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Why?” Dean asked incredulously, “You not a Prime after all?”

“I still don’t have my ring,” the ex-lantern snapped in rebuttal, “I cannot waste an ounce of omnilium until I have it.”

His face crumpling in shock and frustration, Dean held his hands out, “Well I’d say this isn’t really a waste here, man. We’re killing freaking Reaper! It wasn’t gonna be free!”

“I will not use what I have, not until I have my ring. This is not up for debate,” Sinestro snarled, his hands forming dramatic claws in front of him as he spoke. “We will have to find another way.”

Dean threw the door of the Impala open and stepped out into the gritty light of the street, the crowd mingling past him as he slammed the vehicle back shut. “Don’t worry about it, your Majesty; I’ll get us the stuff. You just find us a place to lay down this paint while I get it all ready.”

Sinestro stepped out of the car, planted his hat on his head and crossed his arms in front of him. “If this creature and this ritual are from your world, it’s likely best that you summon the requisite items anyways. I will repay you as soon as I am able.”

“Save it,” Dean spat, a sphere of scintillating energy already forming between his hands. “If you’re just along for the ride and don’t wanna buy a ticket, the least you can do is shut your pie-hole.” A squat, flat-topped cylinder began to form between his hands, the bright swirling lights coalescing as he focused.

Sinestro tilted his head down, allowing the brim of his hat to coat his face in shadow, “You should know I’m good for my word, Dean. You’ll get everything you put into this and more as soon as I’m able to repay you.” Dean remained silent as letters began to form on the fuzzy label that wrapped around the cylinder. “I can speak for the fact that the Lords of the Arid Waste do not renege on their promises, whatever they may be.”

“Yeah?” Dean thrust the can of paint towards his partner, “Well I can’t say I give a damn. I’ve heard too many promises. Sammy, Crowley, even Cas. They all made promises, and not a single one of them ever meant a damn thing. Sure, we kept the world spinning, but other than that?” He paused, his eyes distant for a moment, “It barely even matters. Now go paint this.” He pointed at the lid of the paint can, which carried an intricate arcane pattern within a circle, “Somewhere where we can trap the damn Reaper.”

The deputy reached out and took the bucket from him, the white paint sloshing within. He cast a careful stare at his partner, gazing into his empty eyes before he tipped his hat down, concealing his face in shadow. He studied the image shortly and nodded. “I can do this. How perfect does this symbol have to be in order for it to work?”

“The closer to the image the better, but even a rush job might work in a pinch.” He shrugged, going back to the business of summoning more of the reagents. “Shouldn’t be too hard, I do it all the time.”

“Not even a straight edge or a circle to base it off of?” Sinestro asked, somewhat surprised. He began to look over the symbol again; its faultless lines and immaculate angles more intimidating that he had originally noticed.

Dean shook his head, “Nah, they usually come out great. Guess it just takes some practice.”

Sinestro shrugged, “It will be done. I won’t be far.” He began to walk down the street, the paint bucket swinging at his side. It wasn’t long before the busy streets took him in, the throngs of people concealing him.

“And don’t get killed you idjit!” the demon yelled after him in frustration, the next item of the ritual forming between his hands. He wondered if it would even matter if the man died but let the thought slip away as he concentrated on his work.

-----

The buildings of the recently deceased weren’t hard to find. A few questions with the locals and he had more gossip than he knew what to do with. Death frequently sprung up from the sands like an unwelcome weed, and the origin or purpose of it was scarcely determined by the overtaxed authorities. Thaal knew the source of the most recent string of mysterious killings, but it didn’t truly matter in this case. All that mattered was that a building was empty.

Sinestro’s mind automatically focused on the tool he wished to use, a carryover from the long years of being able to simply create what he thought of. Instead, he banished the thought from his mind and began to look for a pry-bar of some kind to crack the sealed doors of palatial estate.

It stood in the corner of town, just close enough to the center that it was easily found, but just far enough that he wouldn’t be noticed while he did what needed to be done. Its architecture was of the colonial period of the American west, faint hints of Greek revivalism apparent in the tall white fluted pillars that spanned between each story. The structure itself was mostly brick, though white stucco archways and moldings wrapped over the numerous tall windows of the three story home. The peak of the structure was a stucco dome surrounded by a long balustrade on each side, though at that height the sand and heat had significantly discolored the whiteness of it. Decorative urn festoons were set atop all of the doors, of which there were two in the rear and one in the front. The front door was at the level of the street set onto a short porch, and the two rear doors led into their small, dry garden.

Sinestro curiously looked through the waist-high planters and vases, each of them dead and dry. Pushing his hand through the soil, her pulled free a mound of dirt and sorted through it with his thumb. He found what he had suspected: a surplus of planting seeds, each of them dry and empty.

“Wonderin’ why they didn’ grow?” a voice came from the darkness, causing Sinestro to spin and cock the lever of his rifle. An old woman stood at the corner of the garden, her back proud and straight, a revolver pointed at the deputy.

Sinestro’s hands opened, allowing the rifle to spin on his finger and point to the sky. The elderly woman had gotten the jump on him, and he had no interest in garnering the attentions of the Empire with unnecessary gunfire. “I’m not looking for any trouble,” he said with as much calm as he could manage.

She smiled, stepping into the light. She had long black hair worn in two braids falling over each shoulder. Her clothing was simple, but clean and cared for. “Well then I guess I’m not either,” she said with a faint humor, but he weapon didn’t lower. “Why are you snooping around my daughter’s house, boy?”

“I’m a Deputy of the law, investigating her murder,” he said, almost lying.

She frowned, tilting her head back in suspicion, “I thought you fascists had decided it was an unsolved case after I couldn’t pay you nothing?”

Grinning, Sinestro slowly revealed the golden star pinned on the underside of his poncho. “I never said I was from the Empire.”

The old woman tilted the barrel of her weapon up and uncocked it. “Well, damn,” she said in somewhat of a state of awe. She walked over to the red-skinned man, and pushed her hands into the soil as he replaced his weapon on his back. After a moment of sifting through the dirt, she grasped one of the seeds and held it up in the light of the moon. “The man who made this seed did not put into it the value of life.”

“What?” Sinestro gawked, genuinely confused.

Rolling the seed between her fingers, the old woman continued, “When you make something here, you must give it a spirit, the will to live. Omnilium makes what you imagine, but if you do not imagine that something will grow, if you do not imagine what it is for, it can never be that thing. If you do not know the value of the object or what it will become, it will never become it.” She cast the seed to the ground and crushed it under her heel. “The man who made these seeds did not value the life they would grow into, and so they never did. He sold my daughter stones to push into the ground and took her money with him when he left.”

The prime looked over her shoulder and into the planters. “I see. I suppose an item can be worth more than what it appears to be on the surface, in this place even more than the world we lived in before.”

The woman nodded, “Yes. In this place, the spirit world and the physical world live together more obviously than in the last. Before, we could only look at the spirits and the rare few could change it, but here the spirits are all around us; they let us move them and change them as we see fit.”

“An interesting interpretation,” Sinestro conceited to the woman.

She walked toward the door and retrieved a key from her pocket. As she slid the key into the door, her soft voice continued, “This was not my home, it was my daughter’s. She married a rich… creature.” She pushed the door open and stepped inside, the blissful cool washing over Sinestro as he followed. “He was strange, and from a very strange land, but he was good to her. They were in love, and that is all that mattered.”

They made their way into the living area, fine rugs and carpets covering the wooden floor. A large rawhide couch sat in front of an anachronistically advanced television, and soon the other advanced technology within their home became evident to Thaal. “Last week, both died. He died in mourning after she passed,” she said, lifting up a yellowed black and white photograph of the couple. “They could not make babies, but they were happy.”

Sinestro placed a hand on her shoulder. “I want to bring the creature that has done this to justice,” he said, a true conviction in his voice.

Smiling, the old woman placed the photo back on the table. “There is no justice that can be brought from anger, deputy.” Her old eyes found his, and he could not help but be lost in the dark brown depths of them. “Order is not always justice. You would be good to remember that.”

His eyebrows furrowed and for a moment, he saw her eyes in the old woman’s. He cleared his throat and placed the paint can on the ground with a thump. “In any case, she cannot go on killing,” he said abruptly, his gaze avoiding her. “I will make sure that it can’t take away another family.”

“Do what you have to do,” she said and turned towards the door. “This place no longer has anything for me.” She gaze the lawman one last glance, “But maybe it does for you.”

He watched the woman leave through the door, his silhouette backlit by the broad windows of the living room. When she was gone, he knelt down and open the can of paint.

[Dean Winchester]

Anyone who was watching Dean would probably be wondering what the hell was going on. First off he had summoned a bag. It wasn't anything fancy at all, just a tan cloth bag. No big dollar signs or anything even! Next came all the smaller stuff that he would need. It should be pretty simple as it was all stuff he usually dealt with to do his job back home. Holding out his hands he started to concentrate again. Hemlock, hemlock, what the hell was hemlock again?

Really Dean? You forget already? Conium maculatum, a poisonous plant in the carrot family. Kinda looks like...

Dean shook his head to get the familiar voice to shut up, he even went as far to growl under his breath.

”Shut up Sammy.”

Cracking his neck and fingers Dean closed his eyes and pictured the plant in question holding his hands up again. There was a soft glow as a smooth, green, hollow stem spotted with red dots started to form. Next was the leaves and then finally the small clustered white flowers. Once it had formed Dean held it up and took a look at it. Seemed about right to him, though he couldn't really tell one way or another if it was the real deal. He could probably make someone eat some of it and see if they died, though he guessed that would be frowned upon. Stuffing it into the bag he went down the mental list of items to summon. Next was..... mace!

This was another plant or something, he was sure it was like nutmeg but with red in it. Concentrating again Dean summoned the plant and then stuffed it in the bag. The more he did this the easier it was getting. Next he got the blood, then the gold, and then finally as an after thought a pack of matches. All of these rites always used fire after all. Taking a look into the bag Dean made sure that he had all the stuff he needed and then tied it off so nothing would fall out.

Now he just had to find that damn deputy.

He was about to head off in the direction he thought his hunting partner had gone off in when a voice next to him made his jump a bit.

”Preparations have been set. The symbol is ready, I painted it in one of her victims empty house.” Dean just sort of glared at Sinestro a bit for startling him and then slung the bag over his shoulder.

”Fine. Great! Let's get this done. That bitch needs to be dead, and she needs to be dead as of yesterday!” Dean motioned for Sinestro to lead the way and then followed after him. It was apparent to anyone that they passed by that Dean was not in that good of a mood. This hunt had taken way to long, his partner was getting a little bit less helpful, and the fact that Mary-Lou basically all but bragged she had some unknown demon partner was really getting to him. Well, as long as they killed her then Dean could deal with whatever else was thrown at him. He always did.

When they approached the house Sinestro turned to Dean to say something but stopped, looking down at the hunters' free hand. He was hovering a bit too close to the first blade, sort of clenching into a fist then relaxing over and over again.

”We are not going to have a problem are we Dean?” Dean followed his gaze and forcefully made his hand relax and move away from the blade before answering.

”Nah, I'm just ready to end this shit once and for all. That damn Reaper has been a thorn in my side since I came to this damn place.” Dean thought about it for a bit and then shrugged. ”I'm just ready to end this for good.”

Sinestro nodded and then turned back to the door, opening it for them. Dean followed him into the place and took a look around. It was kinda depressing in here. Pots, seeds, the smell of neglect, this was a place that had recently seen death. If Dean had his way, it would see it again real soon. Sinestro motioned to a place on the floor that had been cleared out and a white circle had been painted on it with arcane markings inside. The Winchester walked over and took a look at it.

”Not bad, not bad at all.” He then turned and grinned at the ex-lantern. ”For a rookie at least.”

Sinestros exasperated sigh was enough to make Dean laugh. He was still chuckling a bit as he started to prepare his part. He found an empty crate to use as an altar and placed it at the base of the circle. He then untied the sack and removed all the ingredients and placed them next to it. He reached down for the hemlock and then paused, looking at the stuff he had assembeled. Something was missing here.

”Shit!” The curse was loud and sudden as Dean realized his mistake. ”I forgot a fucking bowl!”

It was the deputy who was laughing now as he reach up and took a dusty bowl off the shelf and handed it to Dean.

”Rookie mistake, I am sure.” Dean just glared at him, a look that was screaming at Sinestro to shut up, and took the blow and placed it on the altar.

Taking his time Dean went over the list in his head and started to carefully mix the ingredients. One by one they went in, the blood going in last. Finally Dean took the matches he had summoned and struck one dropping it into the bowl as he started to chant in Latin.

”O theristis, kaleo se kai deo.” As the words were uttered a large puff of smoke came up from the bowl and Dean waited.

Nothing happened.

Dean lit another match and dropped it in the bowl again.

”O theristis, kaleo se kai deo.” Again nothing happened.

”Is something wrong?” The deputy asked as Dean started to curse to the high heavens and back.

”Yes there is something fucking wrong!” Dean took the bowl and threw it against a wall. The bowl shattered, causing its' contents to cover the wall and floor around where the pieces landed. “All that god damn fucking work and the fucking thing DIDN'T FUCKING WORK!”

Dean started to pace and looked up at Sinestro who was about to speak.

”Don't even ask me if I fucking did it right! I've been doing this shit since I was a fucking kid!” Dean was growling now, each word sounded harsher then the last as he spoke.

”That sounds like a hard childhood.” Dean snarled at this and turned on the deputy. The rage he had been keeping in check during this entire ordeal was very close to exploding. Dean's calm was very visibly melting away.

”FUCK. YOU.” Dean was very close to telling this guy exactly where to go when the sound of the door stopped him in his tracks.

”Well well boys,” came the all too familiar voice. ”Y'all were having a party here and didn't invite lil ol' me?” Deam spun around, his hand instinctively in his hand now. She had found them. That bitch had fucking found them and the damn trap didn't even work!They wasted all that time and resources for nothing!

”Did y'all set this up for me? Awww, I'm flattered! Didn't work though, huh?” Her eyes settled on Dean as her lips curled up into a smile. ”Performance issues Deany?”


That's it. This bitch is toast!

[Gildarts]

“Ah, I thought as much.” she nodded, agreeing to herself in response to Dean’s dropped jaw. Then, Mary Lou turned to the red-skinned alien, waved and winked, “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m the reaper you’ve been hunting. Though most mortals call me Mary Lou.”

Thaal’s face hardened, slowly he sized up the woman -a reaper- and a very dangerous creature from Dean’s home world. The badge gleamed on his chest, and stood as a symbol for what he represented, meanwhile Mary Lou’s own symbol -death- was flaunted with the wave of her hand.

“Very well,” she dismissed his pause with a charming swoop of her head that followed with the gentle cascade of curls over her shoulder, “Not like it’ll matter anyway.”

“Sinestro,” Something glinted in his eye, hinting at a subtle purpose of a deputy’s name, “Thaal Sinestro.”

“Aw shucks. The pleasure is mine, Deputy.” Her eyelashes narrowed on Dean now, her steadfast gaze remained composed, in contrast to the steamy demon. “What’s wrong, is your blood boiling? Oh, I see, you wanted me to get trapped in your little circle. Well, circles painted in chalk mean NOTHING here. In case you haven’t noticed, heaven and hell are distant memories. And your little family? Oh, they’re dead. Sorry to say. They won’t be joining this party. Though, I wonder if there’s a chance you’ll get sent back home if you get banished.”

Mary Lou procured a swirling black ball of darkness. Meanwhile, Thaal raised his aim. “Wait your turn, Deputy.” Her eyes didn’t bother to slide over to the alien as a force impacted against the alien, and threw him to the ground. The same impact had separated his hand from the gun, a lever-action rifle, which was flung aside and into the dust. A cloud around their movement was forming, mainly because Mary Lou insisted on using her overly powerful and unearthly powers.

Dean, furious over his failure and their current turn of events -for the worse- drew his First blade from its sheath. The jawbone caught her eye, “You honestly think that thing will kill me here? Please, if anything, I’ll be the one to kill you with your own weapon, just for kicks.”

“You bitch!” Dean seethed through his teeth as his lips crinkled into a sneering growl. He resembled a dog -or rather a cute puppy who had its favorite ball taken away- it was adorable. It was just too bad, he had to be put down.

“Funny, and he calls me the bitch.” She referred to the resemblance of his face, before pinning him with the invisible force and talking a few careful steps near him. “Dean Winchester, crossed over to the dark side. Famous hunter became exactly what he hated most. It’s just too bad the Deanmon didn’t have the time to stay.”

Mary Lou took her time, clearly holding the upper hand of the situation, as she placed her palm against Dean’s cheek once more and began to suck the life from his as his knees collapsed beneath him.

[Thaal Sinestro]

“Yeah,” the hunter-turned-demon snarled weakly, “it’s a shame I couldn’t stay in this body for longer.”

Mary Lou’s expression peaked with amusement, her hand still pressed firmly into his face. “Oh, humility!” she gawked, “How strange to see that in a Winchester.”

“I guess I’m just gonna have to leave this meatsuit for a second…” his words trailed off as his consciousness faded, body slumping down onto the floor.

The reaper grinned and released her angelic grip on him, content that she had sucked every ounce of life from his frame. Taking a short step back, she brushed her shoulder and shrugged. “Well that was easier than I thou-“ Interrupting the woman’s snide celebration, an inky, thick stream of vapor erupted from Dean’s mouth and consumed her in a veil of darkness and confusion.

Dean’s demonic smoke form cycled from his mouth in a huge burst and then back up his nose, creating a violent cyclone of demonic energy that engulfed the woman as he French-inhaled his own essence. Mary Lou was momentarily bewildered before she staggered back out of the fog, swatting at the air. The last of the bleak smog cycled up into his body and he convulsed as his spirit took seat. His eyes snapped open, black as the heart of Satan. “Just for a second though,” he said with all the confidence of a leading man.

When the Reaper opened her mouth to retort, he slammed his boot into her gut, doubling her over and sending her back a few paces. Dean bound to his feet and thrust the dagger in the woman’s direction, only to be caught by a powerful, unseen force in mid-swing. “How many ways do I have to say it Dean?” she snapped, “You ain’t got the stuff, sugar!” The power washed over him and cast him back against the wall, the old wood creaking under her power. “Now hold still and die.”

“Wait,” he grunted, struggling to turn his head and face her, the plaster crumbling all around him.

“What!?” she shrieked, frustrated beyond words.

The hunter tilted his chin and gestured it behind her. She turned just in time to see the wooden stock smash into her jaw, Sinestro throwing all of his weight into swing of the rifle. She stumbled holding her face, but it only took a split second before she recovered and slammed her fist into Sinestro’s ribs, dispatching him through the air like a rag doll. The deputy crashed through the front window of the building and rolled into the street, tiny shards of glass imbedded in his skin and his ribs were almost surely broken.

A deep slash ruined the back of Mary Lou’s clothing, blood trickling down her back with a flash of light. Dean brandished the weapon to strike again, the angel automatically catching his wrist and attempting to restrain him. “Looks like you don’t have the juice you’re used to, huh?” Dean laughed as the two pushed back and forth.

“Trust, me, I’ve got more than I need,” she responded, a bit of heat in her voice now. Wrinkles formed over her forehead and around her nose as she exerted herself and with a quick twist she snapped the demon’s wrist backwards, bone protruding from the skin.

Dean reeled back, his shattered joint flopping as he regained his footing. “Well, that would’a hurt,” he growled from behind a snarling smirk, “if I wasn’t a demon.” He snapped his wrist back into place with a grotesque crackle and wiggled his fingers. “But, you know, demon.”

Rolling her eyes, another wall of telekinetic force hurled the man into the kitchen table, which he toppled over anticlimactically. “Angel,” she retorted with a petulant snap. Leaning down, she grabbed the hunter back his neck and lifted him from the ground, her powerful grip crushing every structure beneath it. “And I’ve had enough.”

The windows shattered and a bullet tore through her shoulder, two more following it as Sinestro quickly fanned the lever of the rifle and continued to fire from outside. She glanced down at her tattered dress, eyes wide with fury. “Seriously, I’m done now.”

The angel vanished from Sinestro sight in an instant and he quickly scanned the interior of the building, his weapon sweeping left and right. When her hands snatched him up from behind, he jolted with surprise. With one hand she took hold of his right upper-arm and, using her thumb, began to apply pressure. The humerus began to audibly splinter and the deputy screamed in agony.

Dean’s voice roared, “DUCK!” which Sinestro did, just in time for the First Blade to soar past his head and slice open her cheek. She screamed as the radiant white light of her being shined from beneath her flesh, a tiny part of her essence cut away by the artifact dagger.

Loose of the reaper’s grip, Sinestro again bashed the woman with the butt of his rifle and created some distance between them. He kicked the First Blade into his hand and tossed it back to Dean, who snatched it from is flight hungrily. Without skipping a beat, the deputy used his one good arm to squeeze the trigger and put a bullet in the Reaper’s gut. “The ritual!” he shouted to the demon as Mary Lou recovered and swung a fist at the korugaran.

“It didn’t work!” Dean shouted through the obliterated window, still gathering up the scattered components as he shouted.

His partner flew through the adjacent glass panel and onto the floor of the building, Mary Lou’s fist still posed from the punch she dealt him. “It’s like the seeds, Dean!” Sinestro yelled, holding the rifle between himself and the reaper as she dived in on top of him.

“What the hell are you talking about?!” the demon yelled as he kicked the frenzied angel off his partner and parried another powerful blow when she retaliated.

“You-“ the deputy grunted as another supernaturally powerful blow tossed him into a stud, knocking several frames from the wall. Gasping, he continued, “You made the items, but you didn’t create them with their true worth!” The ex-lantern grit his teeth as Mary Lou’s telekinetic power pounded into him, splitting the wooden beam of the structure and sending him toppling through the opening.

“What does that even mean?” Dean shouted, sprinting in with quick knife strikes, each of which were each easily parried by the martially proficient prostitute. “I made the gold and… and-“ he grunted, managing to deflect yet another attack, “the other stuff!”

Groaning, the injured deputy leaned up from his crater in the house’s wall. He cough and cleared his throat, continuing, “You made those things, yes, but you didn’t make ritual components! What the items can do, their true value wasn’t represented in the cost you paid to create them!”

“So, what?” Dean snapped back, laying a heavy boot in yet unfazed death-dealer, “I just made a rock and some flowers?!”

Sinestro pulled himself free of the hole and slumped to the ground, a shower of dry-wall and wood washing over him. “Yes, that’s about right.” He stood and whipped his lever action down with one hand and then swung it back up, priming the weapon. “Omnilium represents value, Dean!” Holding the rifle in front of himself with his good arm, he took another crack at the angel, then slinging it down again to cock it. “You have to invest the value of the item that you wish to use! You have to put that value into the item when you make it! A seed with no value cannot grow, and a chunk of gold is just pretty metal until you make it something more!”

Dean grabbed the woman by the shoulders and threw her into Sinestro’s shot, yet another bullet perforating her back. “Ok, I think I get it!” Slashing again with the First Blade, he kept the angel at bay long enough to maneuver in front of the circle. “You gotta keep her off my back long enough to finish summoning this sigil trap, then!”

Sighing, Sinestro lurched forward and flexed his broken arm. “Alright, damnit!” he swore and barreled after the clearly superior being.

[Dean Winchester]

Invest some of yourself in it, give it it's true value, this was all just a load of crap! Sadly they had no other options right now so Dean would have to try it. Though hopefully he could get it done sooner rather than later. The Winchester brother had no idea how long Sinestro could hold the attention of a Reaper before it got bored and came back for Dean. Dean pulled out a piece of that Omnilium and was about to try summoning the ritual pieces again but a stray thought crossed his mind.

They didn't NEED to summon her. She was right here in front of them! All Dean really needed was to get the trap to work! Dean's mind went racing. Could he summon paint with the need for it to trap people, or should he summon blood? Blood usually was very powerful for magic, though could he summon blood with the right intent or value? His thoughts kept on this path until a stray rock caught him in the mouth. Cursing Dean spat some blood onto the floor and looked at it for a moment, what if he used his own blood? Put his entire will, desire, or whatever you want to call it into the damn stuff and pinned that reaper bitch right to the ground?

It wasn't the worse plan he had right now.

Picking up a jagged piece of rubble Dean cut his hand and started to draw on the ground, tracing over the previous trap with his own blood. As Dean was drawing he was focusing on that little bit of demon inside him, the rage of the first mark, his desire to see this bitch dead, and trying to will it all into his blood. He noticed that as the blood touched the ground it started smoke a bit before finally settling into the materials of the floor.

Half way through Dean looked up to see the reaper staring at him while he was going about his work. He started to get up when Mary-Lou was football tackled by Sinestro into a pile of rubble.

”GET BACK TO WORK!” the deputy yelled at him as he rolled off the reaper and got up ready to continue his own battle with her. Dean just snarled and went back to the circle. Placing his hand down to continue he noticed no more blood was coming out.

SHIT, that's right. Healing. With a sigh Dean took the piece of rubble and dug it into his palm, ripping a large gash into it. There, that should give him enough blood to finish this.

This whole thing was taking way to long though and the only thought going through Deans' head was how Sammy or Bobby would have had his ass for this. Then again, fuck them. Dean was here and they weren't, plus you know with Bobby being dead and all. Dean shook the thoughts from out of his head and put the final touches on the trap and sighed, wiping his forehead and unintentionally getting it all bloody.

Now to deal with that damn Reaper.

Before Dean could even stand up though he was flung back into the wall behind him. Looking up Dean saw Sinestro laying on the ground, breathing at least, and the reaper locking eyes with the Winchester.

”Poor delusional Deany, don't you realise those won't work here?” Dean just snarled at her and spat on the ground.

”If that's so why don't you walk on over here and finish the job yourself.” Dean took on a more confident look, grinning at her. ”Or are you too scared, huh? Big bad Reaper afraid of a little drawings on the ground. Oh no! Can't step there, even though I know it won't work! God, what happened to the big bad Reaper bitch?”

”YOU INSOLENT WINCHESTER BRAT! I WILL STRANGLE THE LIFE OUT OF YOU WTH MY BARE HANDS!” Dean just grinned again, he had struck a nerve which meant she hopefully wasn't thinking to clearly. Now if the damn trap worked this time then all would be well.

The Reaper flung Dean down into the ground hard, dislocating his shoulder, before marching forward with nothing but murder showing in her eyes. Dean watched as she defiantly marched forward and into the circle, and then stopped dead in her tracks. The confusion on her face was enough to give Dean the warm and fuzzies. Standing up he forced his shoulder back into place with a loud snap and then walked toward the trap, then around it, only to stop by the first blade and pick it up. Walking back around he returned to the front of the trap and faced his now caught prey.

”What did you do?!” the furious reaper demanded. Dean just shruged and spat in her face.

”Trade secret, bitch.”

”So I guess you are going to kill me now?” At this Dean just burst out into laughter. It wasn't the funny Ha Ha kind either, more like the blood curdling 'I am in the room with a murderous psychopath' kind.

”You're gonna wish I had.” Dean slammed the hilt of the first blade into her face, causing her knees to crumple a bit, but somehow she managed to stay upright. So he did it again, and again, and again, making sure to only hit with the hilt and not the blade until she was laying on the ground, unconscious and barely breathing. Looking down at his other hand Dean saw that the palm had started to heal again, though he could still see the flesh and stuff on the inside move whenever he flexed it. Shrugging it off he went over to see how his partner was doing.

”You dead yet? Can I have your stuff?” Dean nudged Sinestro with his boot, which got him a groan from the deputy.

”What was it you said before? Right. Fuck you.” Dean couldn't help but chuckle at that. They had caught the bitch and that had put him in a good mood. Helping Sinestro to his feet Dean made sure he could stand before going back over to their captive.

”Is she dead?” Sinestro asked him, to which Dean just shook his head and tossed him the keys to the Impala.

”Not yet. Not here.” Dean pointed towards the front door before speaking again. ”Pull the car up as close as you can and open the trunk. We are getting out of town quick like.”

They deputy nodded and headed towards the door while Dean sat there watching the reaper. She wasn't going to die here, not after all the trouble she had put him through. Looking about Dean found an old rug and through it down beside Mary Lou before looking for something to tie her up with. He managed to find a small bit of rope to tire her hands together, but had to salvage the curtains to bind her feet and make an impromptu gag to keep her silent in case she woke up before they left. Rolling her onto the rug Dean rolled her up in it before making sure it was placed in the centre of the trap. She wasn't getting away this time.

Sitting down next to his prisoner Dean waited for Sinestro to get back, his mind wandering a bit. He was comparing this hunt to all his others. It seemed to him that this had made the rest look easy, even the ones that they had barely survived by the skin of their teeth. They had stopped the apocalypse and this had MADE THAT LOOK EASY. Fuck this place.

He was still brooding about this when the roar of an engine brought him back to reality. Checking to make sure Mary Lou was still out cold, he got up and went outside to find Sinestro there with his car. Dean walked over to the open trunk and before Sinestro said a thing he cut his hand again and started to redraw the trap on the inside of the hood.

”Ah, for ease of transport I take it?” Dean just nodded as he worked. When it was finished he motioned for his hunting partner to follow him back inside.

”I take this end and you take that one, then we stuff her in the trunk.” Dean bent down and took hold of her feet through the rug and Sinestro did the same with her shoulders, then they lifted her up. ”We go somewhere nice and private out in the sand box and we finish it.”

Making their way outside with the 'package' Dean was confronted by an old lady just staring at them.

”Uhhh, don't mind us. Just moving out some... er... furniture?” The lady just glanced at Dean and then stared long and hard at the carpet, finally her eyes moving towards Sinestro.

“Is that her? My daughters' killer?” Sinestro looked at the old woman and nodded.

”Yes ma'am. We are taking her away and making sure this never happens to anyone ever again.” The old lady just stood there and watched them for a moment before turning around and leaving.

“Good. Thank you.” Dean just sighed and nodded towards the trunk and they tossed the unconscious form into it before slamming the good down and activating the new trap.

”Whatever. Let's get out of here.” Getting into the drivers seat Dean opened the door for Sinestro to get in the other side. ”I'll bring you to your stupid smelly beast and you can follow me out.”

Dean started the motor and put the car into gear, peeling out of their and heading towards the stables.

'What about the local authorities?” Dean just looked over to Sinestro and shrugged.

”Hopefully we will be long gone before that becomes an issue.” Dean sat in silence for the rest of the short drive, pulling up to the stable doors so Sinestro could get his camel. Dean sat there, engine idling, until his partner show up riding that stupid thing. Dean just put a hand out the window and motioned forward, pushing on the gas pedal and kicking up dust before driving off. He made sure it was slow enough that Sinestro could keep up of course.

Dean was pulling up to the gate out when he realized that he still had a bit, well more like a lot, of blood on him. Shit shit shit shit, he was going to have to think fast here. The trooper at the gate motioned for him to come forward so he pulled up, Sinestro and the camel close behind.

“What in the underverse happened to you?” Dean just tried to look sheepish at the Troopers' question before holding up his palm, which had healed a bit more but still looked really nasty.

”Slight accident. Heading back to see my family doc back in the no name.” The trooper tilted his head to the side and Dean just shrugged. ”Hey, only person I'd trust with something like this! Just hoping we can get there before it gets infected!”

“Weren't you here hunting that singer? We saw you in the bar there before, right? At Rick's!” Dean nodded and this time changed to an expression of being slightly sad, but mostly just pissed off.

”She got away. Me and my partner here are going to go check the desert again.” Dean just shrugged and gave his best 'oh well' smile. ”Win some, lose some. This time we lost.”

The trooper just stared at Dean for a bit, though with those damn helmets it was hard to know what the man was thinking. Hopefully he wasn't on her payroll or something, that would put a damper on the whole situation. Maybe cops here weren't as easy to buy off though, at least Dean had that little shred of hope.

“Well I suggest you look out there for awhile. We don't want any trouble here.” Dean just nodded to the man.

”Of course, officer.” Rolling up the window Dean put the car into drive and started to pull away. Just as he got outside the gates he noticed another Trooper coming up to speak to the first. Did they find the mess they made already? Well, it wasn't like the fight had been quiet. With that Dean pressed down on the pedal and sped right the hell up. Hopefully that damn beast behind him could keep up!

.......


It took them awhile to find the perfect spot. A secluded area with a flat rock surface, something sturdy for Dean to draw on. Making a new trap Dean put the rug down on it, and then placed the still unconscious reaper on top of that. He then turned to Sinestro and nodded over to their modes of transportation.

”Go back and watch the stuff. I got this.” Sinestro stood there with his arms folded across his chest before sighing and heading towards their stuff. Dean noticed that when he got there the deputy got his rifle out and leaned against the Impala. If he wanted to watch this then he was more then welcome to.

Next item on the list though was waking the reaper up, so Dean knelt down beside her, just outside of the trap itself, and slapped her with enough force that the sound of it echoed through the area. Her eyes sprang open and she started to curse, or at least tried to through the gag. Dean brought a finger up to her mouth and pressed it against her lips while shushing her. The sounds eventually faded and the reapers eyes darted all over the place.

”Yeah, we're not in Kansas anymore bitch.” Dean took out the first blade and tapped it against her cheek. ”No one here but me, you, my friend back there, and this blade. So here is what is going to happen next. I am going to start cutting, then carving, then slicing, and it keeps going from there until you can't stand it anymore. That is when I am going to stop and ask a question, if you give the right answer you get a break! If not, well...” The last part was left hanging there as an implied threat. Moving the first blade under the fabric being used as a gag Dean cut the fabric away, making sure to take a nice slice out of her cheek. The wound flashed a bright blue-ish white light before settling into a normal bleeding cut.

”Do your worst you fucking son of a bi...” Dean stabbed the first blade into her shoulder, cutting of her words, and twisted it in place. Looking down at her the demon bared his teeth in a smile while his eyes went completely black.

”Oh, I plan on it sweet heart. I plan on it." With those words Dean began his work, taking every bit of knowledge he had gained from torturing souls in hell and applying it to his current goals.

He started first with small cuts in sensitive places, though the reaper was seemingly able to keep her screams in check through that. Next he started to carve chunks of flesh off her arms and legs, not large patches but he made sure the cuts were deep. This is how it went for awhile, starting off small and increasing over time. The blue-white light flashing out with every cut as the reaper's very essence was being bled away. Looking back once in awhile the hunter turned executioner saw that Sinestro had busied himself with his camel, taking it a little bit further away. Either the deputy was more squeamish then the Winchester had thought, or he was going for some sort of plausible denial or something. No matter which it was Dean just went back to work.

Dean wasn't sure exactly when it happened but after he had plunged the first blade into her side her façade broke and the Reaper started to scream. This didn't cause Dean to stop, no it caused he to keep going. Mary Lou's screams just seemed to prod him along and make him get meaner, and meaner. Finally he held the blade still when her screams had become a whimper, tears running down her eyes.

”Just... just ask your questions...” Dean just smiled at this, her words had been forced and her voice sounded broken. The best part to him was the fact that she could no longer even look him in the eyes. He had won.

”Oh, I don't actually care about that anymore.” The reapers' head snapped to the side and she stared at Dean wide eyed before she couldn't take it anymore and looked away. ”See you taunted me with Sammy, Cas, the whole shabang, but you made one mistake. You thought I still cared about that bull crap. They are on their own, and the only person here I have to look out for right now is me. So taunt me with your talk of deals and whatever other bullshit you can come up with. If there are more demons out their then they either fall in line and work for me, or they can join you.”

With that Dean plunged the first blade into her chest, piercing her heart. All that wondrous rage flowed over him, filled him to the point of exhilaration. This felt good, this felt right. This is how it was now, Dean would claw his way to the top of the food chain and leave a bloody path of those who stood in his way behind him. Looking down he saw the Reapers mouth moving, her eyes finally locked with his.

”Any last words?” he asked as he pulled the first blade out slowly

[Gildarts]

Suffocating breaths rasped in her throat.

Defiant yet defeated, the reaper remained alive, much to her own dread. She hadn’t realized the mistake she made. Dean was a demon, one who swore suffering and wove wrath into every ounce of his being. Even his words sneered villainously into her bones.

The deputy was no where to be seen, not around to witness this inhumanity. So-called man of justice. The humans were nothing but fiends. Tolerating such evil made the deputy only less. No one entitled to justice could ever find it within him to look away when a person was being brutalized. Sure, Mary Lou had gotten on their bad side, but did that merit torture? Sure, she had killed a few people, but, she was just coping and doing what she did best. She was a reaper and he, a demon. Perhaps that was what made this whole situation, all the more... Supernatural.

”I don’t actually care about that anymore...”

“Looks like you’ve got me there, Dean.” She responded as she looked down at the chains which bound her. And the streaking lines cut all across her now bare flesh. At the seams of her clothing, the sleeves of her red dress were sliced away. It was... Strange, how the crimson blood she was spilling in her less-than-holy form could not be seen because of the blood-like shade of the garment she had chosen to wear that night.

“Any last words?” Her enemy scowled, a demon’s face contorted under the shade cast by his black eyes.

“You can torture my body, but you can never have your soul back from the pits which you were flung... You’ll pay, Dean Winchester. And it is not just your blood that will be shed to pay your debt. You will learn to fear all which you can not know. You, a demon, but also a hunter, are an abomination to your kind. Both your kind. Man and beast. So go ahead, send me back to heaven. I’ll send you a postcard when I get there. I'll even kiss the envelope.”

Mary Lou had the audacity to threaten the Deanmon -and his family's bloodline- on her deathbed. The knife grew near, but his eyes narrowed as it closed in near her throat. He was going to savor every second of the suspense. He thirsted for the fear in her eyes, the scent of blood-spilt pain, the drain of her consciousness. She wondered if he could see the reflection of a monster in her misty eyes. To Mary Lou -a natural born reaper- her killings had rationality, Dean's only had brutality. So, in the last way she could, she showed it. Unarmed and drained of power. She had been trapped and tortured. Now, she prepared for the slaughter. A song came to mind, along with the pungent fragrance of cigarette smoke and women's flowery perfume. She was reminded of her favorite era.

The familiar rhythm hummed with the now-softness of her voice. “That no one can deny... It’s still the same old story... A fight for love and glory... A case of do or die... As.. Time.. Goes... By...” In her ears she could hear the piano keys over the roar of blood slowing with the tempo of her pumping heart. He had already plunged the dagger deep into her ribs and the angel at that point, hadn't felt a thing.

[Thaal Sinestro]

The tall glass hit the bar, the frothy suds washing out over the side and onto the counter. The French barkeep smiled broadly and accepted the wad of currency. Dean grabbed the glass handle and held it up high, cheerfully adding “And keep the tap open, pal.”

The demon chugged down the entire brew and grabbed the second that was already waiting for him. “Mm, who knew the friggin’ Nazis made such good beer,” he chimed, his eyes flashing black for just an instant as he pondered the implications of his statement. “Eh, I guess they were, ah, are, German.”

Sinestro’s eyebrow quirked and he slowly unfolded his arms, grabbing the stool next to his partner and pulling it out. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he sighed, sitting down beside him. He pulled his hat from his head and hung it on one of the convenient hooks below the counter. “But I’m glad you like your drink, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean took another long drink, exhaling with refreshment after he was done. “What do they drink out on Korugaru, anyways? Space spritzes? Cosmic martinis?”

“Korugar,” the alien corrected with a smile, “and during my time, nothing. It was my belief at the time that an abolition of narcotics was a wise decision.” He sighed and tilted his head in concession, “However, in retrospect I believe that may have been one of the major contributing factors to the rebellion.”

Dean laughed and slapped Sinestro on the back, “Yeah, that’d get me ready to revolt, that’s for damn sure.”

Smirking, Sinestro nodded, “A note for the next time.”

“Well, what did you drink before all of… whatever world domination bull crap you pulled?” Dean asked passively as he ogled one of the passing women, her 1940’s dress glimmering playfully in the soft incandescent lighting.

“Nothing, it impedes willpower. It breaks your focus.” The piano started up in the background, the gentle tinkling of the notes allowing for a light, unobtrusive atmosphere. A few heads turned towards the player, one of the dapperly-dressed women shaking her head and murmuring about what a shame it was that there was no singer. “Besides, it didn’t do much for me after I got the ring.” Sinestro took a deep breath and idly rubbed his temple, “Though, long before inclusion in the Lanterns, I enjoyed the occasional drink.” He laughed softly to himself, “It seems as though creating alcohol through fermentation is almost universal, for even the most primitive societies.”

Drinking down the rest of the brew, Dean planted his glass back down. “Alright, so what’s your poison? Beer? Liquor? Some kinda other weird, space booze?”

“We called it ‘mancha’. It was a dark, almost black alcohol that was made from a fruit native to Korugar. It was generally distilled, at various potencies. It was sometimes herbed, other times more sweet.” He shrugged and leaned back, again folding his arms over his chest. “Though I doubt they have it here.”

“Huh. Sounds exotic.” Dean made eye contact with the bartender and tapped the bar with his fingers. “I’m a beer and whiskey kind of guy. They make it with wheat and hops and, you know, stuff. It takes like piss but it grows on ya.” Glancing over to the ex-lantern, he shrugged, “So you want a soda or something?”

Thaal shrugged, “I’m fine, as soon as they bring me my steak.” A waiter emerged from the kitchen with two plates in his hands, the double doors flapping back and forth. The plate slid down and he grinned at the meal, taking up the fork and knife. “Perfect timing.”

“Speak of the devil,” Dean scoffed, leaning back as his steaming burger was placed in front of him. “Well, you know you could make one, if you really wanted. Get the ol’ omnilium swirling.”

The alien pushed a bite of his meal into his mouth eagerly, “I won’t spend my reserves on something as petty as a drink, Dean.”

Shrugging, Dean sunk into his burger, chewing loudly. “Fine, that… fruit stuff kinda sounds like wine. Order one of those, I’ll cover you.”

Sinestro waved his hand, picking up a napkin and wiping the grease from his dirty face. He swallowed and shook his head, “No. No thank you, really.”

“Too late,” the demon laughed and accepted the tall glass, filled with the dark red fluid. “Yeah, here you go you stuck up bastard. Drink up.”

Sighing heavily, Sinestro snatched the glass, swirling it under his nose. “This smells awful,” he said flatly.

“It is. It’s wine.” The hunter took another messy bite.

Sinestro’s lip curled as he gave it another sniff, “Ah yes, how inspiring.” Finally he brought it to his lips and took a small sip. “Oh, that’s why it smelled awful. Because it’s awful.” He placed the glass down and took another long, pained breath. “Alright, fine,” he said in an exacerbated tone.

“Fine?” Dean asked, pushing fries into his face, “What’s fine?”

Rolling his eyes, Sinestro held his hand out in front of him, a tiny glow emanating from his palm. “Fine.”

Dean’s eyes went wide, gawking as he slapped the counter. “Well I’ll be damned,” he said with a guffaw. “Well, actually, I guess I already was.”

A small, clear glass appeared in the alien’s fingers, quickly filled with a transparent, black fluid. He grasped it, turning it back and forth in the light. He smiled in quiet amazement at his creation, watching as the crystal glinted in the light. “This is the first thing I have made in this place. The very first use of my power in this place.”

Dean nodded solemnly. “Well uh…” he tipped his cup up to his partner, “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” They tapped their glasses together and the night went on, the music that played around them strangely absent of a singer.